


Carnival Games

by Stegosaur



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Chastity Device, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Rough Sex, Rubber, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 40,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegosaur/pseuds/Stegosaur
Summary: The brothers find themselves involved in sick carnival-style games for New York's villains, with lasting consequences for their family.





	1. Watergun Race

     This was not how they expected their night to go.

     “Step right up, bad boys and villainous vixens, and try your hand at our little racing game!”  The carnie called out to the assembled crowd of ne’er-do-wells, motioning to an innocent-looking carnival game.  “Fifty dollars gets you one round at our little game, and the first one to the colored line wins half the pot!”  The game looked simple enough: four large containers, a series of colored lines measured out along their height sat at the far end of the counter, a series of water pistols at the close end, each one colored via a strip of cloth tied around their handles and nozzles.  What nobody saw was the four turtles strapped down beneath the game, a series of cords connected to rivet guns pointed at their extremities.  Each had been screwed down with steel cuffs to a block of wood thrice their weight, arms and legs secured to the sides of the block and beneath their shells, making escape all but impossible.

     Raphael was the only one still struggling, the other three having accepted the impossibility of their escape from the current bonds.  All four had large ring gags secured in their jaws, their genitals manipulated free of their protective pouches and crammed into confining chastity cages.  Their seclusion meant they could hear everything around them, even though the audience could not see them.  “We got four players!  Let the games begin!”  Water began dripping through the tray above them as the game commenced, icy liquid splattering on their exposed bodies and making them shiver from its delicate touch.  Raphael snarled angrily and continued his struggle, even as a loud pop echoed in their ears and signaled another winner.  “Blue wins!”  Leonardo whimpered, his second rivet gun going off and sealing his gag shut behind his head.

     The rules of the ‘carnival game’ were simple: each jar had four lines, each representing a known quantity of liquid in the jar.  As the weight increased, each rivet gun would be triggered in succession: collar first, then gag, then their chastity cage as the finale.  As their booth worker told them with a devious grin on his face, “Last one unlocked, gets to walk home free, aside from their ‘gifts’.  You have my promise.”  The four of them had looked nervously at each other.

     Only one of them would make it out of here.

     Donatello struggled to look over at Leonardo, sensing their leader’s dismay.  With Leo now ‘second’, it meant Raphael was the only one able to speak besides himself.  Water began dripping down onto them again as another game started, Michelangelo starting to whimper and cry audibly as very little actually hit his chest.  One thing they all picked up on was that a lack of water on them, meant that most of it was entering into the container above them.  A loud pop echoed next to Don as Michelangelo’s third rivet gun went off, the smallest turtle thrashing and squirming as his chastity cage was sealed shut.  “One more on Orange, and we get our first prize of the evening, ladies and gents!”  Raphael tried to scream or shout, while Don brushed his fingers against the tips of Michelangelo’s, futilely trying to reassure their youngest brother that everything would be okay.

     What drove Leonardo mad wasn’t the humiliating bondage, so much as the vibrator that had been pressed against their cages all night long.  Part of him wanted out, part of him wanted to slice everyone there into thin ribbons of meat and flesh, yet right now, most of him _just wanted to cum so bad!_   He hated himself for being swayed by such basic urges, and the icy water rivulets running over his sculpted body and muscles hardly helped matters.  He couldn’t tell what his brothers were going through beyond Raph’s constant, pointless struggling and snarling, almost hoping the hothead would be knocked out soon lest he be responsible for a pathetic rescue attempt later.

     “We’re hot tonight!  Another four players, already eager to play!  Will the orange lane finally be topped off?  Or will red get some much needed love?”  Michelangelo began to shiver in fear as water trickled down onto his chest and head, but it was Donatello’s turn to fall as the rivet gun behind his neck sounded off, sealing the gag shut.  “Ohh! That’s two for purple and blue, three for orange, and one for red!”  Raphael seemed to be the lucky one of the four tonight, both Donatello and Leonardo turning to glare at their stronger, angrier sibling.  There was no way Raphael could lead a successful rescue attempt, yet that appeared to be what was happening, much to their dismay.  Their frustration was interrupted as water began raining down onto their bare bodies once more, Leonardo squirming his hips and trying to adjust the cage or vibrator positioning for some relief.  Another pop of a rivet gun made him whimper aloud in frustration, drowned out by rapid squealing and crying from Michelangelo as water began pouring over his container and showering his face.  “WE HAVE OUR FIRST PRIZE, LADIES AND GENTS!”  The front of the carnival game dropped to reveal Michelangelo’s bound form, that fourth pop apparently a bolt that would reveal the ‘prize’ to the attendees.  The crowd fell silent for just a moment before breaking into cheers and applause, Don struggling to grab at his sibling as the terrapin was dragged from beneath the game and out into the open.  “The lucky orange players who won will get a chance to play for him in the next round, but we still have two more prizes to give away!”

     Raphael’s feisty squirming had finally come to an end once Michelangelo was carried away, the pace of the game sharply increasing as everyone jockeyed for a chance to possess one of New York’s most loathed vigilantes.  Each loud pop of a rivet gun made the three of them clench and tense with fear, nostrils gulping for air between the raining of water over their bound bodies.  “Red finally gets some attention!”  The rivet gun behind Raph’s skull went off, silencing the fourth brother for the eve.  The one against his chastity cage went next, a submissive whimper as his pride and joy was sealed away behind medical steel.  Don was next, leaving the hothead and genius both anxious about their odds for surviving this horror show with just a single shot left for either of them.  Their anxiety was short-lived, however, as Raph’s front dropped with a pop, the angry turtle being dragged into the crowd with his bondage on full display.

     “TWO TO GO!  Will purple outlast blue?  Or will we have a four-way-tie?”  The carnie barked, Leo and Don looking at each other with fear.  There had been no mention of a tie, but then again, there hadn’t been a promise that this was the only game, either.  They both renewed their struggles for freedom as water cascaded over their chests and limbs, all four water pistols in use despite only two remaining ‘prizes’.  Leo’s third gun went off with a bang, the terrapin whimpering as he too was sealed away in chastity like his siblings.  Down to the final game, both Don and Leo wrenched their eyes shut and awaited the final shot of the night, terrified of who would be the final prize for the collected sickos of New York.

     The final pop echoed throughout the warehouse, the roar of the crowd falling silent as the last facade fell, and the prize revealed.


	2. Dunk Tank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo and Raphael meet the next game, the dunk tank. Except the stakes are much higher this time around.

The word on the street was that New York’s villains would be at a social gala of sorts, putting aside differences in favor of fine food, fun games, and potential new alliances.For the turtles, this was the best opportunity of the year to get intel on their enemies, and to know what may lie ahead.None of them had expected the rumor to be bait for vigilantes or do-gooders like themselves, though the sight of rookie cops strung up in humiliating or degrading poses for blackmail purposes should’ve been clue enough.

Then again, they didn’t have much time to consider the suspiciousness of such a view since the transdermal sedative had already been circulating through their bloodstreams for a few minutes, a thin coating of the substance applied to the roof just in case a barefoot intruder happened by.Or in their case, bare-bodied terrapins.

Michelangelo had been the first one eliminated from the initial game, the turtle carefully removed from his block of wood and bound over a dunk tank of black liquid.While he sat freely on the stool, his arms and legs had been secured with manacles hanging loosely around his wrists, a cement block covering their chains and ensuring he’d sink to the bottom of the deep pit.Raphael was next to join him, the hothead getting an injection of sedative while the crew worked to position him as well, making sure to tuck their chastised manhoods back into their protective slits.The steel was cold and uncomfortable, but not as much as the gag forcing his jaw almost painfully apart.A new carnival worker stepped up on the nearby podium, a baseball in his palm.

“Villains of New York and beyond, welcome to the next round of our little showdown!Three lovely terrapins will be up for grabs by our winners from the first game, but it’ll take more than a mere toss of the ball to win a new boy toy!”A stepped table of balloons was wheeled up beside them, all of them containing some sort of heavy orb within.“Each competitor will take turns throwing darts at these balloons, and inside each one is a little sphere.That sphere may contain a ball for them to aim at the turtle of their choice, and sink them into our tank!It may also contain some lovely accessories for one of the troublesome turtles, and the color of the popped balloon will indicate who gets to wear it!”The crowd seemed unenthused by the complexity of the game, a Triceraton stepping up and growling.

“Just give me the big one, the one called Raphael.He is my prize!”The crowd seemed to nod in approval, the carnival worker smirking at the big brute.

“Why the rush, big guy?Some of us would love to see these boys humiliated before they’re handed over, and we’ve supplied only the best toys for the troublemakers to wear.”The Triceraton didn’t seem sold, until the worker held up a headset.“Like this delightful brainwashing helmet from Stockman Technologies!If you get one of these, we’ll seal it to his head so that once he’s dunked, he’ll be an obedient little hypnoslave forever!Isn’t that handy?”The Trike grinned wide, patting the worker’s shoulder and stepping back.

“Indeed it would.My apologies, meat, please continue.”Raphael and Michelangelo exchanged fearful glances, Mike trying to lift his cinderblock but finding it difficult in his current position.

“Now then, while we wait for our third prize to join us, let’s begin!”The carnival worker handed the Triceraton a dart, motioning to the crowd.“Give it a toss, big guy!”The dart sailed over all the balloons as the alien heaved it at full strength, the crowd chuckling as it clattered to the floor.“Woah there, no need to show us that mighty Triceraton strength!We’re looking for that Triceraton grace, poise, and precision that is so under appreciated by us lower races.Isn’t that right, everyone?”The gathered crowd chuckled and murmured, a few heads nodding sarcastically.

“Why not let the next contestant show you how it’s done, hmm?”Bebop stepped up to the throwing line with a grin, eyeing Michelangelo with a deviant leer.“I’ve got some experience with these little bar games, and I’d love to put a smile on my prize’s face.”Michelangelo whimpered around his gag as the boar smiled wide at him, leisurely tossing a dart at an orange balloon and striking it dead on with a pop.A transparent sphere clattered to the ground, a pair of orange-colored swimming goggles contained within.“Ahh, perfect. I was worried my new toy wouldn’t be able to see after his dunk.”The carnival worker handed Bebop the goggles and let the mutant stride up to the tank, his thick fingers carefully setting the goggles over Michelangelo’s eyes and tightening the straps.“Not too tight?”Michelangelo nodded, recoiling slightly as he moved in to kiss the turtle’s tear-stained cheek.“Shh, don’t ya worry, I’ll take good care of ya babe.Uncle Bebop could never hurt a dude as cute or cool as you.”Raphael snarled at Bebop, the boar chuckling at the show of rage.“Your brother, however…I dunno.”

“Less talking, more throwing!I want my prize, and you are in the way.”The Triceraton spoke up again, his boot tapping impatiently against the cement floor.Bebop bowed with feigned respect and stepped back behind the line, the alien grabbing another dart and chucking it wildly at the balloons.This time it struck red, an empty sphere clattering to the ground.The alien roared in anger, the carnival worker trying to tame the beast’s rage.

“Calm down there, big guy, this isn’t meant to torture our lucky players!”The Trike appeared ready to clobber the poor human running the show, until Bebop stepped between the two and offered up one of his darts to the menacing alien.

“I’ll let you take my turn, if you promise to shut up and play nice from now on.” The board growled, the Triceraton accepting the offer with a smirk and tossing it at the stand.Another red balloon popped, this one containing a ring of silicone with a hollow center.Bebop licked his lips at the sight, the brutish alien looking confused.“It’s called a pig hole, big guy.Want me to show ya how it works?”The alien nodded, two assistants forcing Raphael to bend over his plank and expose his rump.“It’s already lubed, so you just shove it in there until it stops.”He handed the slick ring to the Triceraton, who looked at the restrained Raphael and then to Bebop with confusion.“It opens him up so you can fuck ‘im.”The boar grinned, making a crude intercourse gesture with his hands.Raphael began to squirm and scream in protest at the explanation, though it seemed the alien finally grasped what it was for and smiled wide for the crowd.

“I see. It will help him serve his new Alphas in the mighty Triceraton Empire.”The Trike began to chuckle with a deep bellow, lining up the pig hole with Raph’s rear entrance and pushing it in.The turtle continued to writhe and squirm, futilely attempting to get away even as it wedged inside his rectum, the ring designed to force him open with no hope of closure or clenching against potential intruders.The mighty brute was violated in full view of the crowd, a few showing their disgust even as many applauded his comeuppance.The ring finally slipped into place with a satisfying pop, Raphael unable to force it out of his own accord.“Much better. I have no doubt he can service our bodies effectively now.If all of these ‘toys’ are similarly effective, then I will continue playing your silly games.”

“Then take your next turn, so I can resume my own.”Bebop quipped, the Triceraton offered a third dart.This too sailed through the air and into another red balloon, the Trike’s aim improving with each toss.A pair of rubber mitts clattered to the floor, and the Triceraton knew exactly what to do with these.Pulling each one over Raphael’s hands, the mitts coiled his fingers into loose fists and stretched down to his forearm, the rubber clinging tightly to his bare skin and rendering his hands useless.“Nice choose, Trooper.Mind if I take my turn, now?”

“By all means, meat.”Bebop lined up for his second toss, stooping at his knees to aim up towards the stepped balloons.His experiment was a resounding success, two orange balloons popping in a diagonal line as the arrow bounced from the top of the first to the bottom of the second.Two spheres rolled down to the floor, an orange silicone pig hole for Michelangelo and a baseball to toss at the dunk tank.Michelangelo shook his head feverishly as the assistants grabbed his arms and began to wrestle him down, a call from Bebop stopping the show of force.

“Slow down there.I can handle the little runt.”The boar strode over to Michelangelo’s side, rubbing the turtle’s shell soothingly and whispering into his ear.“This is going in whether you like it or not, but I don’t wanna hurt ya.If you cooperate, I’ll make sure it feels nice.Okay?”The terrapin nodded meekly, Bebop guiding him over the plank to expose his rump, but blocking the show from the crowd.He popped a bottle of lube from his coat pocket and drizzled the substance over Mike’s exposed ass, massaging it in with his fingers and gently probing them into the turtle’s depths.Michelangelo moaned as the boar gently probed him, the villain showing quite a bit of compassion considering past circumstances, and keeping his promise of avoiding pain.He whimpered as the fingers were removed, knowing the silicone toy would be coming next.The stretchy material began inserting into him with slow, careful pushes by Bebop, the mutant reading Michelangelo’s body language as he took his time inserting the object into his new toy.Whereas Raphael’s toy was inserted in seconds, Bebop drew out Michelangelo’s insertion over the course of a full minute, gently working the toy to and fro into the terrapin’s rump and savoring the moans made by the captive.Michelangelo squeaked with surprise as the ring finally popped into place, filling him up and keeping him stretched out.“Alright.Feeling okay?”Michelangelo nodded, the boar kissing the turtle on his cheek after helping Mikey upright again.“Good.I ain’t gonna miss, so just take my advice, and let it go in your mouth.Don’t hold your breath or nothin’, and it’ll be over before you know it.”The turtle shook his head nervously and tried to beg around the ring gag in his jaw, Bebop stepping back to the throwing line.“WHO WANTS TO SEE ME DUNK A TURT?!”He held the baseball high, the crowd screaming for blood as he whipped them into a frenzy.Satisfied with the roar of the gathered crowd, he pivoted on a heel and tossed the ball square at the target above Michelangelo’s head, a look of terror in the turtle’s eyes as the ball pinged hard against the metal bullseye, and the plank beneath him dropped.Nobody but Raphael could hear the sob of horror as Michelangelo disappeared into the inky black of the dunk tank, the blocks ensuring he sank quickly to its bottom with no hope of coming up again.As the trail of bubbles trickled to a stop, Raphael’s blood began to run cold.

He was going to die here.He was a dead turtle, and there would be no rescue mission.


	3. Prize Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Michelangelo eliminated, Leonardo and Raphael go head-to-head over the dunk tank, with Donatello forced to spectate the horror-show.

From Raphael’s perspective, things had gone from bad to much, much worse.Leonardo had taken Michelangelo’s place in the dunk tank seating, the turtle just as sedated as Raphael had been moments before.Don was cuffed off to the side, helpless to do anything except watch his siblings sit precariously over the tank, and see how the sickening carnival game unfolded.All three had been unfortunate enough to watch Michelangelo’s plunge into the pitch blackness, the trickling of air to the surface, and the stillness of the liquid as their brother passed on.While Don was supervised by two guards, the carnival barker whipped the crowd into a renewed vigor.“Here’s our third prize of the night, ladies and gents, and it’s an old fashioned rivalry!Who will fall next to our pit of pleasure?The hothead in red?Or the stoic leader in blue?”Leonardo glared drowsily at the assembled crowd as his ‘winner’ stepped forward, Slash grinning wide at Raphael.

“I punish Leo, just like Raph always wanted.”The mutant grinned, Raphael shaking his head to try and dissuade the enormous terrapin.“Don’t worry, I make Raph happy.”Slash let his first dart fly into the assembled balloons, the orange ones pulling double-duty for Leo’s ‘prizes’ in addition to a few blue ones mixed in for good measure.An orange one popped, a blindfold contained within the sphere.“No more eyesight!”The turtle cheered, a guard grabbing the blindfold and sliding it over Leo’s eyes, tugging the strap tight behind the leader’s skull.The Triceraton chortled as he lined up his own throw, a red balloon popping open and revealing another pair of mitts, this time sized for Raphael’s feet.The alien snatched them up with a huff and marched over to Raphael, shoving the turtle’s bare feet into the thickly padded socks and rolling them up his shins.The garment forced Raph’s toes together and to curl in slightly, no doubt forcing the captive turtle to walk instead of run or jump, lest he lose his balance.“My turn my turn!”Slash clapped, the crowd chuckling as Raphael and Leo alternated between additional shaming and bondage.Leo ‘won’ an isolation hood to match his blindfold, silencing the turtle from the outside world entirely and robbing him of any stimuli beyond touch and taste.It was the Triceraton’s next prize that shocked the crowd, however, a tiny SD card clacking onto the stand.

“WE HAVE A WINNER!”The worker shouted, Raphael and Donatello glancing around in confusion.Two guards accosted Raphael from behind, guiding the emerald turtle’s head into a headset that covered his eyes with transparent glass, a pair of earphones being nestled into his hearing canals before the entire plastic ensemble was cinched tightly behind his head.Raph began to fear what the ‘prize’ was, though Donatello knew it all too well.“A Stockman Technologies brainwave alteration device, designed to program and adjust any lifeforms to suit the needs of its user!Or, to put it in laymen terms for us sophisticated villains…”. The carnival worker held up a remote control, pressing a button on its face.“A mind control helmet.”Visual stimuli combined with auditory cues, both quickly overwhelming Raphael’s consciousness and putting the meathead into a deep trance.Don yanked hard at his bondage and tried to protest the use of such a device, watching drool drip from Raph’s jaw as his body went limp.The genius began to cry again as he watched Raphael slip away from them consciously, only slightly relieved that Leonardo couldn’t see the light dim from his amber eyes.Slash was the only one of the crowd to look genuinely concerned, the carnival barker quickly stroking the big lug’s arm with a crooked smile on his face.“Don’t worry big guy, he’s just asleep!”Slash seemed to accept the explanation at face value, readying another dart and letting it loose at the balloons.The dart hit a red one instead of its intended target, a baseball rolling down onto the floor.“Aww, don’t worry big guy, you’ll still get to take your prized leader home as a gift!Unfortunately for the fearsome red warrior, well…”. The barker picked up the ball and handed it to the Triceraton, beckoning to the red target over Raphael’s head.“DUNK THAT TURTLE!”

There was a solid ping of metal as the Triceraton hit the target dead on, the plank dropping out from under Raph and sending the entranced sibling into the depths below.Donatello collapsed as he watched Raphael’s air trail stop, Leonardo alone over the tank and none the wiser to the events that transpired.As the genius sobbed for the loss of his hotheaded brother, Slash was too preoccupied with peering into the tank to look for Raphael.“Raph asleep down there?”The carnival worker slithered over to the hulking monster, patting his arm gently.

“He is!Want to send your prize down there to join him?”The worker goaded Slash onward, motioning to the target above Leonardo’s head.“Just hit the target, and down he goes…”. Donatello tried to scream around the ring gag in his mouth, to beg Slash not to take his sole remaining brother.“One quick tap, and you get to take home that lovely prize of yours.”Slash turned to Donatello, a happy grin on his face.

“Don’t cry. Raph like you!Slash like you.”Donatello began to relax somewhat, a glimmer of hope swelling in his chest that maybe, just maybe, Slash would show mercy.“Slash no like Leo, though.”His fist pounded the target, Leo dropping into the tank with a heavy splash, and Donatello yanking so hard against his bindings that his wrists began to bleed.The olive turtle grieved aloud as his family was stolen from him, Slash giggling as the bubbles from Leo slowed to a halt.Three brothers, bound together at the bottom of the dunk tank, submerged in its eternal black depths.

“With that, esteemed guests, our game is concluded!Let us return to the night’s festivities, and our staff will take care of the cleanup.”Bebop, Slash, and the Triceraton were led back to the party as if nothing had happened, the carnival barker striding confidently over to Donatello once the room had cleared and their privacy assured.“Don’t you fret your pretty little head, I gave you my word that the ‘winner’ would be set free.”With a snap of his fingers, guards unscrewed Don’s bonds and cleaned up his cut wrists and ankles, letting the aggrieved turtle collapse onto the cold floor with a sob.“Let me put it to you bluntly, smart guy: if you so much as cross that throwing line to try and look in the tank, and we’ll snap your neck and toss your body in the harbor.If, on the other hand, you tuck tail and run?Nobody will chase ya.Nobody will follow ya. Nobody will watch ya.”The human crouched down with a nasty smirk on his face, cupping Donatello’s chin.“Smart guy like yourself?I’m sure you’ll be out of our toys in a week, tops.Then you can spend all your time plotting revenge or whatever it is you mutants do.”Donatello’s eyes were wide in fear, nodding meekly in the human’s grasp.“Good boy.Now then…”. The carnival worker released him, motioning to a nearby exit with his arm.“Go.”

Donatello didn’t have to be told twice, the olive turtle dashing out of there with choked sobs and no small amount of panic.He refused to go back to the lair, just in case he was followed after all, mind racing for options as he found solace in a nearby sewer grate.Safer within the confines of the sewage system, he began the long, lonely trek to an emergency safe house, his cheeks stained with tears of loss.


	4. Splashdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carnivals are always full of tricks and deceit, and a carnival catering to villains is no different.

Michelangelo hit the liquid with a splash, the black goop encasing him in its warm touch as he was dragged to the bottom by those cinderblocks on his manacles.Try as he might to free himself, the steel manacles refused to budge even an inch, and his fate was guaranteed.He had tried to get a breath before being dunked, but the gag holding his mouth open and tongue down made it impossible for him to actual hold on to any air, and the goop had rushed down the top of his throat before he could clench his esophagus tight.As his lungs began to burn, his final thoughts turned to what Bebop had whispered to him before sealing his fate, Michelangelo relaxing his body and just letting death take him into the sweet beyond.

Except that’s not what happened.

As soon as the air had been forced from his lungs and the substance entered them, he found a strange calm washing over his body.He didn’t feel the need to breathe anymore, and he didn’t feel panicked over the lack of air, yet he was still quite conscious and aware of the roaring crowd just beyond the walls of the tank.He gave the manacles another tug, still finding them quite secure, but otherwise able to move within the limits of his restraints.He craned his head upward, trying to see how far down he had sank, but not a shred of light penetrated the inky blackness.He was forced to sit and wait for however long he had left, perplexed as to how or why he was even still here in his body, or why he could still feel the bite of the metal gag against his jaws.

Two thumps resonated nearby on the floor of the tank, almost certainly the sound of Raphael being dropped in with him.The sound confirmed Michelangelo wasn’t actually dead yet, at least to his own senses, but a second pair of thumps just beside him so soon after were more surprising.The identity of the third victim was a mystery to him, though he suspected that whatever miracle had kept him alive was also keeping his brothers equally well.He reached out blindly to grab at the victim who landed nearest to him, a pair of hands lashing out and grabbing his own, shaking with fear.Michelangelo squeezed those hands back and tried to comfort their owner, whoever they might be, the faint sound of gargling and sputtering as air left the lungs of his fellow victim and was replaced with that thick liquid just barely audible over the cheering crowd.The grip remained tight even as the noise and struggling from the other turtle stopped, hesitant fingers reaching out to press and garb at his hand in confusion.He also reached out to touch and tug at the arm of whoever he was next to, the two terrapins exploring each other in shared darkness and silence.The strange hand pulled back, a second joining it and signing into Michelangelo’s palm, a form of silent communication they all practiced in case of capture.

_Who?_ Michelangelo signed his name back, the rigid fingers expressing confusion before replying in turn. _Leonardo_.A smile crept across Michelangelo’s face, relief that Leo appeared to be fine, relatively speaking.Their conversation was quick, limited to single words and simple queries. _Raphael?_

_Behind_.

_Cuffs?_

_Locked.Yours?_ Leo’s hands pulled Mikey’s over to his cuffs, the younger turtle exploring the metal for weaknesses or flaws.Much to his shock and surprise, a pair of quick release buttons sat behind the wrist, impossible to reach alone but easily undone with assistance.Michelangelo popped Leo’s cuffs open, the leader returning the favor before rising to the surface for air, ignorant of the blocks still tethered to their ankles.Michelangelo navigated along the tank floor to Raphael, undoing his cuffs and slipping an arm beneath his brother, lifting the immobile turtle up to the surface with him.

“Bout time you figured it out.”Bebop smirked triumphantly, Michelangelo caught by surprise at the boar’s presence.“I see you freed yer family, too, not that they’re of much help.”Michelangelo turned to Leonardo, splashing backwards in the tank as his brother had been covered in smooth, black rubber, his facial and body features still defined, though with no sight, sound, or sense of smell to be had with whatever was coating his head.As he reached up to try and wipe it off Leo, Michelangelo yelped to find he was covered in much the same substance, yet still in full possession of his senses.Bebop chuckled, holding up a mirror to Mikey’s startled face and letting the turtle examine himself up close.“Krang Tech, I think.Supposed to be body armor.Self-repairs, binds to organic tissue, optimizes biology, blah blah blah.”Michelangelo examined himself in the mirror, his body features preserved beneath the shiny substance, though the metal of his collar and gag were still exposed.“You didn’t find it odd you could breathe underwater?”The boar seemed in on the whole scam, Mikey shooting him an angry glare.“What? I promised I wouldn’t hurt ya, and I meant it.Just because I run with these bozos doesn’t mean I’m still a bad guy.I just, ah…ain’t exactly good, either.”Mikey placed his hands on his hips, trying to look sarcastically surprised, though the bondage gear made that difficult to pull off.Bebop snorted at the gesture, stifling a hearty laugh.“Don’t get pissed at me, kid, I just saved your ass.I’ll explain later, though.For now, well…”. He motioned to Leonardo and Raphael with a frown.“You three ain’t leaving together, if you catch my drift.So if I were you, I’d say yer goodbyes.”Michelangelo’s eyes went wide as Bebop stomped off to rejoin the party, Leonardo’s hand struggling to pull the gear off his head.He turned to Raphael, the turtle’s normally amber eyes blank and white, an array of colors filling the goggles mounted to his head.Unresponsive to any of Mikey’s nudges, pushes, or slaps to his head, the youngest turtle turned to Leo and grabbed his hands, signing into the palms.

_Permanent.Sorry._ Leonardo paused for a moment, then pointed to his head, making a motion of removing a helmet.Michelangelo signed again. _Permanent._ Leo’s head slumped forward, leaning against the edge of the tank with an audible sigh around his own gag.Michelangelo joined his sibling and drank in the scenery from behind his own swimming goggles, black rubber dripping from his jaw and onto the concrete floor below.Leo reached blindly for Michelangelo’s hand, signing Raphael’s name into it with concerned hesitation.Mikey took another look at their hotheaded brother, seemingly dead to the world behind his mask. _Alive. Gone._ Leo challenged the second word, signing a simple question about Raphael’s eyes. _White_. _Alive._

_Mind control._ Leonardo signed back, Michelangelo sighing again as Raphael was definitely of no use.Of the three of them there, in fact, Michelangelo was the only one still relatively normal, and even that was a significant stretch of the truth. _Legs?_ Leonardo signed inquisitively to Michelangelo.The younger turtle dove back under the liquid to find their ankle blocks, only to find all of those manacles properly locked.He surfaced again, signing his findings to Leonardo.The three of them had little choice but to sit in relative silence, Michelangelo listening to the laughter and self-celebration of the nearby villains as they savored the demise of their only major opposition in the city.Time passed before Leo signed again, their leader likely lost in thought and evaluating his options. _Donatello?_

_Missing.Free?_ Michelangelo pressed back, Leonardo squeezing Michelangelo’s hands tightly and nodding emphatically. _Hope._ It was all they had at the moment, though there was no telling whether or not Don would or could come back for them.More time passed before Michelangelo forced further discussion, determined not to leave Leo alone in the infinite void of his encasement. _Owner?_

_S-L-A-S-H-._ Leonardo signed back with forced, pointed gestures punctuating each letter rather than signing a specific word.Clearly, he was not pleased with the circumstances, but none of them had any say in the matter.

_Raphael?_ Leonardo hesitated this time, slowly spelling out ‘Triceraton’ into Mikey’s palm.Suddenly, Michelangelo was rather pleased with his luck in getting Bebop of all people.Slash was too thick to understand the implications of their situation, and the Triceratons wouldn’t kill someone they could more effectively humiliate.So in a perverted twist, death was not to be their ending, or so it would seem.His lack of response puzzled Leonardo, the leader signing into Mike’s palms.

_Yours?_

_B-E-B-O-P._ Leonardo recoils with an audible splash, then waded over to Michelangelo and embraced him tightly.Mikey tried to pat Leo’s sides soothingly, breaking free of the embrace and grabbing his brother’s hands. _He’s nice. Don’t worry._

_Villain. Attacker.Violent.Destructive._ Leo continued signing synonyms and descriptors until Michelangelo grabbed his hands tightly together, pressing his forehead to Leo’s and holding there until he calmed down.He opened one of Leo’s palms, tapping out a short explanation of the events he’d witnessed firsthand.Leo seemed unconvinced by the explanation, firmly signing back into Michelangelo’s hands. _Be careful_.

_You too._ They held hands for a moment more, unable to voice concerns or complex thoughts, but each of them aware that things could be worse. _Love you._

Leo’s hands trembled at that, shakily replying in kind before hugging Michelangelo tightly.


	5. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bebop takes his prize home.

“Guess who won himself a prize, boys?!”Bebop kicked in the door to their meager apartment, Michelangelo hiding behind the boar.Rocksteady and Mondo looked over from the sofa with curiosity, the heavy rhino curling his lip at the sight of the black…thing.

“What da fuq is dat?”Rocksteady snarked, Mondo climbing along the back of the sofa for a better look, gamepad in one hand.Michelangelo would’ve blushed if he could, his vain attempt at hiding destroyed by a toss from Bebop into the room and onto the floor, sprawling out at the Rhino’s feet.“Is dat…tortle?”Rocksteady’s Eastern European accent was thick, Mondo giving Michelangelo a gentle poke.

“It’s rubber.Freaky.”The gecko hopped off the sofa and helped the rubber-clad terrapin upright, fingers yanking hard at the metal collar and ring gag still firmly secured on his person.“The hell is this thing, ‘Bop?Some kinda sex toy?”His eyes went wide, thrusting an accusatory finger at the boar’s direction.“You went to the party, you lying fucker!”

“You said _nyet_ to party!”Rocksteady growled, slamming the plastic controller to the floor.Michelangelo scrambled away from the pair, Bebop casually slamming the door behind him and shucking off his jacket.“What is dis ting?!”

“That would be our old frenemy, Michelangelo.”Bebop outed the turtle with a grin, slapping Mondo’s grubby hands away from the metal.“And he was my prize at the party tonight.”

“DUDE!”Mondo squealed, jumping over to Mikey and circling excitedly around the turtle, poking and prodding him all over until Bebop slapped his hands away again.“He looks all gimped up!How’d you get him into that sweet costume?!”Rocksteady stood up, his heavy boots stomping across the floor to Mikey before yanking the turtle up by an ankle, Michelangelo dangling upside down while being eye level with the large rhino.

“Zat is orange tortle?”He tossed the light terrapin into the air, catching Michelangelo by a wrist on the way down.“Why iz he all bound?”Mondo nudged the rhino with a smirk, making a pumping motion with a hollow fist over his own crotch.

“Why do I get dressed up for you, big guy?Mikey is DOWN TO F-“Bebop smacked them both before Mondo could finish, both of them wincing and letting Michelangelo collapse on the ground with a grunt.

“He is up for no such thing after tonight.Mondo, you still got the drill kit from that bank job?”The gecko nodded, Bebop yanking up on Mike’s gag and pointing to the rivet.“Think you can drill this out for me?”Rocksteady grabbed Michelangelo by the gag before the gecko could answer, bending the rivet joint just enough for it to slip over the back of Michelangelo’s head and out of his jaw, the turtle rubbing his mouth as it was finally free.“Well, I kinda wanted to keep that, Rox, but I guess that works too.”The rhino paid Bebop no mind, plucking the goggles free of Michelangelo’s eyes and tossing them aside.Free of some of his gear, Michelangelo began to relax in the presence of the big brutes, sprawling out on the floor while he let his jaw recover.

“Tortle looked scared.”Rocksteady commented, glaring warily at Bebop.“You do zis to him?”Rock’s accent got thicker with anger, Bebop shaking his head slowly and offering no resistance to the larger mammal mutant.

“No way, big buy, I keep my promises.”

“Then what the hell happened?”Mondo poked Michelangelo again, the turtle slapping the hand away on his own this time.“He’s freaking rubber, dude!”

Bebop relayed the night’s events, even cluing in Michelangelo on some tidbits he wasn’t aware of before.Such as how a chance message notification lit up his shell cell, and by sheer, dumb luck, Bebop saw the familiar wallpaper and decided to keep tabs on the four.Or how he bribed the carnival operator for info on which balloons contained the less obtrusive gear, so he could put on a suitable show of humiliation before springing the turtle from captivity.Or how that wasn’t a costume, but an indefinite alteration.“Needless to say, it’s been a hell of a night.”

“You had me worried, husband.”Rocksteady groaned, rubbing his temples with thick fingers.“I do not wish to go back to life of violent crime.”

“And you totally should’ve brought me along, so I could’ve dragged home that cute brother of his!Y’know, the jock?What’s his name-“ Mondo snapped his fingers as he tried to think, drawing a blank aside from those chiseled muscles, huge biceps, that rough personality…

“Raphael.”Michelangelo croaked, his voice hoarse and a bit squeaky.“Could I get some water?”

“Nope.”Bebop crossed his arms and let out a sigh, plucking a pamphlet from his back pocket.“It says here that you shouldn’t eat or drink for a day, while the material binds to your body.Even then, it says liquid diet only.”He thumped the paper for effect, Michelangelo frowning and slumping on the floor.“No more pizza for you.Sorry kid.”

“So wait, how long does that shit last?”Mondo’s sexual enthusiasm had faded somewhat following the exposition, Bebop reading the mock-instruction sheet.

“Lifelong, so it says.”Michelangelo sniffled, pulling his knees up to his chest and shaking a little.“But come on, we’re four mutants sharing an apartment, and three of us in this room have been to alternate dimensions with shit that makes this-“Bebop gestured to Michelangelo, “-seem ‘normal’.I doubt it’ll be forever.”

“You don’t have to cheer me up, guys.I know I’m fucked up.”Michelangelo buried his face behind his thighs, Rocksteady’s heavy hand rubbing the top of his head comfortingly.

“No more ‘fucked up’ than rest of us, little one.Do not worry.If husband says your science brother is free, then you will be fine.”The rhino leaned back onto the sofa with a heavy grunt, unpausing the game.“In meantime, you stay here.As houseboy.”Mondo looked offended, Rocksteady catching on to the act without having to look at the gecko.“I said house _boy_ , nyet house _toy_.”Mondo flopped back with a playful huff, Michelangelo peeking above his knees at the pair on the sofa.Bebop’s hand landed on his shoulder, carefully pulling Michelangelo to his feet and leading him back down the hallway.

“Don’t mind them.They’re upset I blew off date night.”Michelangelo shook his head, wiping a tear from his eyes.“And before you ask…no, you cannot go home.”Mike stopped in his tracks, Bebop grabbing his shoulders gently and squeezing them.“Look, we have to keep up appearances for now.That means you need to stay here, in the apartment, until it’s safe for you to leave.If you wander off now, we’re all at risk.”

“At risk of what?You saved me, right?I need to call Donnie, tell him I’m safe, tell him-“Bebop shushed him, shaking his head solemnly.

“You can’t, not yet anyway.You can bet that ass of yours that we’re under surveillance until they’re assured you won’t be going anywhere.I know the drill, remember?We used it on you guys a number of times.”Michelangelo managed a small smile.

“You guys sucked at it, though.”

“True, but my point stands.They know where I live, and they know we still do odd jobs for cash.We _cannot_ get caught, Michelangelo, and so that means you’re stuck with us.”Michelangelo nodded.Bebop was right, even if he desperately wanted to call Donnie and let him know he was okay.Satisfied that the turtle was calming down, Bebop nudged open one of the hallway doors, the stench of cheap weed wafting into the open hall.Mondo’s room was a mess, a bong sitting in the open on a table while his bed was unkempt and covered in old clothes.“Mondo will sleep with us tonight, and you can have his room for now.We’ll get it cleaned up tomorrow.”The boar patted his shoulders and turned to leave, Michelangelo stopping him with a firm yank.“What’s up?”

“Look, I know a lot has happened tonight and everything, but uh…”. Michelangelo stammered for a moment, standing on his toes to whisper his question into Bebop’s ear.The boar smiled, and shook his head.

“No, not tonight.Don’t get me wrong, three-fourths of this apartment wants to bone you right now, but you just went through hell.We’re criminals, not bad guys, and you are in _no_ position to do that right now.”Bebop’s hand wandered down to Michelangelo’s crotch, giving the smooth rubber surface a grope and making the turtle moan.“Besides, it’s not like you can enjoy it in your current condition.”Michelangelo felt heat on his cheeks despite his inability to properly blush, Bebop patting his shoulder and giving a casual wave.“Sleep well, little dude.”

Michelangelo paid no mind to Mondo’s room-stench and flopped right onto the bed, letting the long night finally come to an end as sleep quickly took hold.


	6. Cycles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael has strange dreams.

Raphael had been floating in darkness.His last memories were of that contraption being strapped to his head, earphones jammed into his hearing canals, and a high pitched whine accompanying a dazzling array of colors.Then, blackness.Not a scary, cold blackness, like what he pictured death to be.No, this was warm, calming, relaxing blackness.Like a deep, undisturbed sleep, or one of Leo’s meditations.A nap on a warm summer day, basking beneath the sun.He could float wherever he wanted, even if everywhere was black.Well, almost everywhere.When he first came here, he could briefly see Michelangelo and Leonardo along with him.He could watch them gesture and communicate, but he couldn’t hear their words or comprehend their signs.It was if he knew they were there, they were nearby, but that he was blocked from dedicating any power to responding or reaching out to them.Occasionally a voice would echo in the blackness, words that should have filled him with dread, yet seemed strangely appropriate and soothing.Slave.Meat.Whore.Soldier.

Consort.

That word stuck out to him, it always whispered on the air in a husky voice, accompanied by feelings of warmth and love.Which was odd, given that none of his brothers had ever called him that before.It was a word that was foreign to him, something from cheesy fantasy shows or movies where the King falls for a beautiful peasant girl.He tried to understand the meaning of his feelings toward that word, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find an explanation.Eventually, he accepted it as fact.The word felt nice, it felt like he was being addressed directly, his presence needed in the most intimate of ways.Whoever he was consort to, that person clearly cared greatly for him.

Occasionally the blackness would be interrupted by the appearance of one of his siblings.He watched Donatello toss and turn fitfully in bed, his jaw spread wide by some invisible force, drool flowing from his mouth and staining his linens.Michelangelo showed up once, very early on.Exhausted, sleeping peacefully in a bed Raphael could not recognize.His brother clearly felt safe, but Raphael knew something was troubling his younger sibling.Then there was Leo, someone who made regular appearances in the blackness that encased Raphael.Leo would always appear while meditating, his eyes closed, ears deaf, mouth silenced much like Donatello’s.Raphael would try to reach him, to touch him, yet his brother never responded in kind.Wherever Leo had been meditating, it clearly took substantial concentration just to maintain his trance, yet Raph felt confident that Leo was still in decent hands as well.His family seemed broken, but alive, and that was enough to comfort him in this puzzling time.

Of course, aside from Leo’s appearances, Raphael was alone in the blackness.He only ever saw Donatello and Michelangelo that one time, and something tugged at the back of his mind, trying to tell him that he was far away from them all now.That didn’t sit well with him, but like the words echoing in the air, he couldn’t explain how he knew of their distance, or why that was such a concern for him.

One day, the blackness began to shift and change, an endless field of alien flora stretching before him.Twin suns beat down on his bare skin, a slight breeze preventing him from overheating or growing uncomfortable.He walked along the field seemingly forever, an increasing feeling of home tickling the back of his mind like a feather, his time in New York slowly fading into the background.Leonardo would occasionally appear along his path, but the turtle remained silent and motionless, much to Raphael’s disappointment.This was a place he longed to take Leo to, enjoying his sibling’s company in the beauty of nature itself, sharing their passions in confidence among the flowers.Yet that was not to be, as his wandering finally came to a small tent situated in the midst of the open field, a handsome Triceraton sitting on a chair within.He beckoned to Raphael, flowing robes and precious silks hanging from his perfect physique, and Raphael gladly obeyed his prince.Yes, he remembered now.This was his Prince, and Raphael was his consort.The two of them had been smitten with the other, despite the rules of the monarchy strictly forbidding such relationships.That was why Raphael became his consort, shedding his warrior pride in favor of service to his Prince’s most carnal needs.His Prince had come to reward him, as promised here on this very spot, so long ago.

“Come, my consort, and let me see you.”Raphael felt compelled to approach him, the Triceraton’s soft hands cupping his face and stroking over his cheeks like an owner to his pet.Raphael churred, the Prince leaving behind a trail of black rubber with every touch of his fingers.“You are beautiful, my consort, and I shall preserve your beauty forever.”Raphael lifted his arms gladly out to his sides as his Prince traced over every last inch of his body, covering his emerald skin of old with shiny, liquid rubber, preserving its imperfections in a perfect material.His lover smoothed over his genital slit, protecting his manhood from manipulation and ensuring his dedication to serving the Prince’s every need.Raphael churred as his autonomy and sexuality was taken from him by this man, his knees wobbling as two thick fingers plunged effortlessly into his rectum.This was right, this was so very right, to be pleased and stretched by his Prince in preparation for service.He was a privileged consort to have such tender care exercised by his monarch, a lowly turtle such as himself unworthy of these gentle touches and unwavering attention.“You will serve me forever, consort.”The Triceraton Prince lifted his feet, his magical touch curling Raphael’s toes in and sealing them together into a single, rubber sock.“I will take your freedom to run.”Raphael shuddered, the Prince taking each of his hands in turn and slathering them with his tongue, the rubber pulling Raphael’s fingers into tight fists before sealing them into rubber balls.“I will remove your freedom to touch, to grasp, to hold.”Heat lapped at Raphael’s cheeks as the Prince rose to his feet, both hands grabbing at Raphael’s head before kissing the terrapin firmly.Raphael felt that rubber flood down his throat and into his lungs and stomach alike, stripping away his fragile mortality and converting him into a supreme being of servitude.His jaw was forced wide as the Prince departed from the embrace, Raphael groaning meekly at his newly perfected form.

It was only then did Raphael notice Leonardo standing behind his Prince, the freshly converted turtle unable to stop his jealous sibling from stabbing the Triceraton through the neck.Crimson spewed forth as Leo pulled the blade from the wound, the artery and veins both severed in clean blows, death assured.Leo stared deeply into Raphael’s eyes, a fiery determination behind them.“Fight, Raphael.You have to fight.You have to-“

Raphael awoke with a gasp, a heavy hand pressing down on his chest.It was his Prince, a look of concern on his face.“Are you okay, consort?You’ve been sleeping fitfully since I last made use of you.”Raphael felt the spunk dripping from his anal cavity, its warmth faded with the hours of sleep since their rough sex earlier.His balled mitts massaged his strained jaw, the metal ring of his gag still biting into the gums there.“I asked you a question, consort.”Raphael shook his head sadly, afraid to look his Prince in the eyes.He had been having this dream for weeks now, always that same turtle, always the same outcome, and always the same message.It was a shock to his system, yet it felt more right than anything he did for his Prince.That was what he could not explain, in more ways than one.The Prince reached for the remote on the bedside, smiling softly as he caressed Raphael’s head with his other hand.“If you’re having those bad dreams again, just tell me, and I’ll make them all go away.”Raphael nodded with a slight hesitation, as if he should keep this to himself.The Prince picked up on Raphael’s behavior and engaged the headset anyway, the turtle going limp on the bed and becoming unresponsive.As the Prince dialed in the brainwashing programming for Raphael to listen to on loop for a few days, he grabbed his communication badge and signaled his guards.“Take the consort out for a thorough cleaning and reset.I want him back in my quarters in two days this time, not three.”Two guards entered the room shortly after and removed Raphael’s limp body from the bed, the Triceraton sprawling out with a disgruntled huff.

Raphael had been floating in darkness.His last memories were of that contraption being strapped to his head, earphones jammed into his hearing canals, and a high pitched whine accompanying a dazzling array of colors.  Then, blackness.


	7. Wandering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonardo copes with life under Slash's rule.

Slash had never been the brightest bulb in the drawer, and his handling of Leo wasn’t helping that stereotype.With Leo blind, deaf, and mute, he was unable to perform even basic communication with the brute once he had been plucked from the black bath.It had taken a week before Slash removed the manacles around his ankles, worried that Leo might try and run away.He tried to cajole Leo into swearing allegiance to him, but seemingly forgot the turtle was deaf and gagged during their one-sided conversations.Even with Leo’s feet free, the turtle was wholly dependent on Slash guiding him around his new home…as well as the expectations Slash had for him.Needless to say, Leo wasn’t too thrilled about the larger brute forcing himself on the gimped terrapin without asking Leo first, not that Leo could respond or protest even if he had asked for basic consent.The large creature didn’t use lube, and wound up hurting Leo to the point of tears and cries as he forced himself inside the turtle’s tight rear.He then left the turtle alone for days after, Leonardo keeping curled up in his corner and fearfully waiting for the brute to return for more.

When Slash did come back, it was with a careful pulling of the gag in Leo’s mouth, popping the rivet free before gently pulling the entire assembly off the turtle’s head.Leo felt his head cradled in one hand by the large creature, the other offering a bowl of cold water for Leonardo to drink from.The body language was clear: Slash was apologizing.

Weeks passed, Leo growing used to his new disabilities and finding some degree of agency in his new home.He could tell time of day based on how the air outside touched his rubbery skin, and he found that he could still write rather well if he had a straightedge to guide his handwriting.Slash couldn’t read well, however, and Leo’s perfect cursive wasn’t helping matters either, so he focused instead on restoring his voice.“Slash?”A heavy hand touched his right shoulder, Leo reaching up to give it a squeeze.“May I have some water?”The hand guided him to what Leo came to know as the kitchen, the vibrations of a chair scraping against the floor being felt through his feet before Slash guided him into the seat.The hulking mutant poured some water into a mug, pressing it into Leo’s hands and letting the turtle drink.In his time with Slash, hunger had never really come to him, though he was still dutifully fed liquid meals by Slash every day.The pastes were usually bitter and nauseating, but he wasn’t in a position to really refuse such an order.Thankfully, his days were largely devoid of structure on Slash’s part, and so Leo had ample time to meditate and search for his brothers.Raphael was always the easiest to find, frequently wandering the spiritual ether or entranced by whoever possessed him by now.Occasionally, Raphael would be surrounded by alien flowers, or caressed by a Triceraton in a loving manner.Leo would send his strength to his hotheaded sibling for support, trying to stoke the flames of rebellion in his brother’s heart, though with no indication of success.Donatello was harder to pin down, their genius sibling almost certainly depriving himself of sleep in an effort to find them all again.When he did appear, he seemed to be in frustrated spirits, and not easily consoled by Leo’s ethereal form.Michelangelo was the hardest of all to find, simply because he chose not to be found.As much as Leo searched for him in meditation, Michelangelo rebuffed his efforts, as if fearful of being found by anyone.Leonardo was perplexed by this behavior, as his aura seemed rather warm and happy, if not entirely content with wherever he was.

Slash let his hands wander down Leo’s chest to grope at the smooth crotch, Leo moaning into his mug at the sensitive touch.The grope had become a known question, Slash indicating he wished to play.While Leo was less than thrilled with the prospect of being used by the monster, he also couldn’t refuse or resist in his current form.“Do you have lube, like I asked?”The hand groped again, fingers tapping twice against Leo’s taint in silent affirmation.He sighed, setting the empty mug down and standing up from the chair, Slash guiding him blindly through the home and over to their shared bed.

Smell was something Leo still had, and the sheets stank of sex, sweat, and semen.It was a stench he found foul coming from his captor, but Slash didn’t seem to grasp the idea of laundry as well as Raphael had.The mutant moved to lay Leo down on his shell, parting the gimp’s legs and exposing that rubbery rump.Two lubed fingers inserted themselves without warning or further questioning, Leo moaning aloud as his nerve endings were pleasantly stimulated by the large terrapin on top of him.He had taught Slash how to properly lube him up after Slash had removed his gag, rightfully assuming he would be well-utilized during his stay, and mainly for his own comfort and pleasure more than the big guy’s.He still lacked the finer touch Leo would have liked, the fingers swirling around once before pulling free, Slash’s length soon replacing them as the heavy brute shoved in with a bass-heavy grunt.Leo’s legs were grabbed and lifted over Slash’s shoulders, the smaller turtle bracing his palms against the wall behind him while Slash drove in and had his way with Leo.It was during these times that Leo became reminded of the cage encased beneath the thick rubber shell, and how it actively stifled his own enjoyment of the act.His length engorged as much as the steel permitted, the leader biting his lower lip as the skin pinched against the metal with sharp discomfort.If Slash ever noticed his lips or facial expressions, he didn’t care, as the mutant hulk continued his rough and heavy pace without pause.“H-harder.”Leo managed a plea, the larger turtle striking his prostate with sufficient force as to make Leo’s cock twitch in its prison.Slash obliged, pulling Leo’s legs up higher over his shoulders and bending the turtle back into the bed, heavy hands gripping around Leo’s arms and pinning them to the filthy mattress.He was glad for his own flexibility as Slash showed little care for comfort or positioning beyond his personal needs.The adjustment worked well, however, as Slash more consistently rammed Leo’s prostate with his thrusts.The smaller turtle was awash in pleasure and lusty moans, feeling sweat drip off Slash and onto his rubberized skin, the grip around his arms tightening painfully a Slash neared climax.The guttural groans of his dominant shifted to a reverberating roar that Leonardo could feel in his bones, his rectum filled with shot after shot of hot, thick semen from the powerful male.

Slash pulled out once he had finished, the brute simply cleaning himself off with whatever cloth was available on the bed.Leo was offered no such assistance, and like always, was left unfulfilled and painfully needy following the departure of Slash’s organ.An idle hand wandered down to rub futilely at his own crotch, finding nothing more than discomforting pressure against the hypersensitive flesh within.With Slash out of reach and Leo’s stamina exhausted from sex, he decided to sleep and recover his energy ahead of another night of meditation, desperate to see his family, if only in his mind’s eye.

His sleep was disturbed by his practiced sense of danger, a new scent on the air mixing with the filth Slash carried with him.A whiff of perfume, a hint of blood, a flash of steel.He pulled himself upright and tried to stand, only to be greeted by a blade to his throat.He remained silent as it drew carefully along his skin, its pressure increasing until a warm trickle of blood began to flow from his neck.The blade pivoted and made two quick cuts against his neck at a similar depth, pulling the flesh free and exposing the muscle beneath.To his own surprise, the bleeding stopped almost instantly, and he could feel a small, triangular divot where the cut had just been.He remained frozen as the blade withdrew entirely, along with the feminine figure he had sensed nearby.A familiar hand settled on his shoulder from behind shortly thereafter, Slash’s other hand dipping between Leo’s legs and giving a squeeze, asking for sex.“Slash…was someone here just now?”The turtle tapped his shoulder once negatively, the gesture sharp and genuine.Slash wasn’t lying, at least, which meant the oaf was either blinder than Leo, or the figure was someone very gifted at hiding their presence.Someone with extensive stealth training, who knew how to handle a blade like a master chef.Someone like…

Slash grabbed Leo’s legs and lifted them over his shoulders, the smaller turtle jarred from his train of thought.“Slash, I’m not-“ The beast tapped his taint and groped his crotch hard, Leo moaning meekly as Slash asserted his dominance before pushing in with his lubricated length.Leo squirmed as Slash held tight, whimpering and moaning in equal measure as Slash took him for the second time that day, his lube mixing with the drying seed still inside of Leo’s rear from before.The smaller turtle braced himself against the wall as Slash had his way, his cock pressing against the limits of its cage as it swelled with excitement.He groaned and fidgeted against the larger turtle to find good positioning, the heavy bass of Slash’s groans bouncing against his skin while the brute fucked his toy.


	8. Workouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo gets in a workout at his new home.

“Oh fuck you, Mondo!”Michelangelo huffed, dropping his controller on the table as the gecko scored yet another win.“I totally had you until that blue shell side-swiped me.”Mondo was too busy enjoying his victory screen to care about Michelangelo’s bitching, the turtle slumping back on the sofa with a disgruntled sigh.It had been six weeks since that fateful night, and Michelangelo had been cooped up with the trio as their official houseboy while they figured shit out.After the expected few days of prudishness over his appearance and associated worry over the fate of his siblings, he had settled into a routine in the small apartment: wake up, cook breakfast, clean house, work through katas, then prepare dinner and do the dishes.The guys left him ample time to work through his own issues, though all three were adamant that Michelangelo not leave the apartment under any circumstances, at least while they were still under surveillance.Thankfully, Mondo usually had a solution to Michelangelo’s cabin fever.“Hey, hit me up with some medication.”

“Damn, Mikester, you’ve gone full-blown pothead.”The gecko teased, handing Mikey a grinder and a small bud.The turtle went to work with a routine rhythm, grinding the herb before dumping it into the little wooden vaporizer Mondo had bought him.Pressing the end to his lips, he pushed the battery into place with a thumb and took a hit, inhaling the vaporized crystals deep into his lungs before relaxing into the plush couch.“Good stuff, yeah?More CBD, less THC.Supposed to take the edge off without getting you, like, super-transcendental-high like my usual.”Michelangelo passed the grinder back as he exhaled, looking out the window at New York’s afternoon sky.He longed to actually feel the sun on his skin again, or run along the rooftops at night.Yet despite his freedom, he was still very much a prisoner of his new friends.“What’s up?”

“Same-old, same-old.You spend twenty-odd years running rooftops and kicking bad guy tail, and you tend to miss it once it’s gone.”Mondo turned in the direction Michelangelo was looking, seeing nothing more spectacular than a typical afternoon in the big city.The turtle sighed wistfully, turning back to the TV and turning off the game entirely.“You want to do anything?”Mondo’s head snapped around to grin at Michelangelo.“Besides fuck.”Michelangelo knew that look all too well, the gecko having talked him into many a sex act since he ‘moved in’ with them.Michelangelo was very much up for experimentation at first, but quickly found his inability to climax stifling.He was the hole, never the peg.

“Come on, you were sexy before, and you’re even sexier now.And I still haven’t had my crack at that pig hole of yours.”Heat filled Michelangelo’s cheeks as Mondo reminded him of that permanent toy keeping his ass wide open, his sphincter instinctively clenching and pushing against it once reminded of its presence.“Let me tap that ass already.I promise to clean up my mess…”. Mondo’s long tongue slithered out and flicked at the air, Michelangelo grabbing at his forearms and rubbing them anxiously.

“N-not right now.I meant, uh, y-you wanna do katas with me?I could teach you…”. Mondo’s arousal died in an instant at the mention of actual work, the gecko giving a hand-waving pass at the offer.“Alright,” Michelangelo sighed, “I’ll be in your room.”The turtle trudged back to his makeshift personal space, having done quite a bit of cleaning once he’d acclimated to life with the gang.Gone were the piles of laundry and old baggies of weed, replaced with steam-cleaned carpets, folded clothes, and dusted furniture.The guys had even set him up with outfits of his own, adamant he not lounge around the house naked lest Mondo get the wrong idea.Michelangelo pressed the box to his lips and inhaled again, taking another hit of the illicit medication before stripping bare.While the guys seemed fine in clothing, Michelangelo was still on the fence about being clothed all the time.There was something liberating about nudity, something he didn’t fully appreciate back when he and his brothers were living together.The freedom of movement, the lack of restrictions, the open air washing over his bare skin with every motion.He set about working through the katas drilled into him since he was a child, making sure to keep various stomps and kicks of the feet as quiet as possible, lest he disturb the neighbors below.In a strange way, he felt like he had to perform better here than he did at home, by preserving the strength of each strike or movement while minimizing noise.His extremities flowed like a silent warrior, each blow accompanied only by the whistle of disturbed air.He began to work up a metaphorical sweat, even though the rubberized skin prevented such a reaction by his body.Instead, it manifested in a peculiar form of lubricant in his mouth and rectum, slick gel forming and flowing freely the more strenuous activity became.He didn’t want to think about the reasons behind the odd reaction, though he begrudgingly admitted that it was helpful when he was initially fooling around with the guys.

Michelangelo fell to his hands and knees after the final set, lube dripping from his open orifices.He was proud he finished, but he had come to loathe the aftermath.Sweat was far easier to cleanup, after all.“So that’s what you meant by ‘kaah-taahs’.I thought you were like, meditating or something.”Mondo chirped from the bedroom door, arms crossed.“Looks like quite the workout.”Michelangelo panted and shot him a glare, a glob of lube dripping from his chin.“Woah. You doing that lube thing again?”

“Yeah.”Michelangelo rasped, throat squeaky and tight as he swallowed some of the lubricant.“Happens when I sweat.Except…”. He gasped, spitting a glob of lube to the floor.“…except I don’t sweat.I just do this.Dunno why.”Mondo grinned wide, sauntering into the room proper and crouching in front of Michelangelo’s beak, wiping the lube from the turtle’s chin and squishing it between his fingers.“What?”

“Can I fuck you, Mike?”Mondo asked sincerely, Michelangelo letting out a chuckle of defeat as he shook his head.The gecko was persistent, and for whatever reason, Mikey felt like sex whenever he began creating this lubricant substance.Perhaps the mood was correlated to the reaction?Don could probably answer that, but yeah, Michelangelo was open to some roughhousing.

“Yeah, sure.Rock my world, dude.”Mondo peeled out of his shirt while Michelangelo yanked at his shorts, the gecko as bare as the turtle in no time flat.The reptile was already rock hard by the time he’d been disrobed, and Michelangelo wasted no time in plunging his head down the lizard’s length, letting the lube do the work.Mondo gripped Michelangelo’s head as the turtle’s lips raced down to the base of his shaft and pressed in there, the lube helping guide the flesh down Mikey’s throat like a practiced whore.The turtle bobbed for a bit, slowly going from head to base and coaxing more blood into the gecko’s erection, lips smacking against the flesh as he pulled off completely.“Well? You just going to let me blow you, or are you going to get back there and wreck me?”Mondo didn’t need any more of an invite, the pair moving to Mondo’s bed while the gecko guided Michelangelo onto all fours.He lined up with Mike’s open ass and shoved in, the turtle moaning as the toy was stretched around the lizard’s length.Mondo sat between Bebop and Rocksteady in size and girth, but clearly had far more stamina and experience than those two when it came to getting rowdy in bed.His hands gripped Michelangelo’s hips as he thrusted into the hole, backing that ass up against him as he spiked the turtle’s rear.Michelangelo moaned as Mondo handled him roughly, the gecko starting to pant as his rhythm increased in pace.

The thrusts came to an abrupt stop, a firm yank on one of Michelangelo’s wrists sending the mutant face down into the sheets, Mondo’s other hand pressing his mouth and nostrils down into the bedding.“Yeah, that’s right bitch.Moan for me.”The gecko kicked out Michelangelo’s legs to the sides and brought one of his own onto the bed, getting a higher position on the turtle before resuming his rhythmic pounding.Michelangelo did moan, he moaned quite a bit at the intensely pleasing feeling of Mondo filling his ass, especially at how the gecko treated him how he looked: a fuck toy.Mondo paused to change positions again, pressing the turtle down onto his belly before pulling his arms behind his shell, pinning him by the wrists before the gecko settled atop him.Mondo bit down on Michelangelo’s neck as he resumed thrusting into the terrapin, hot air washing over Mike’s skin as the gecko huffed and panted for breath.His bite released so he could grab Michelangelo’s head with his free arm, yanking the turtle’s skull back before shoving a finger down Mike’s throat.“God you’re such a beautiful slut, Mike.”The turtle moaned and squirmed beneath the gecko as Mondo’s pace slowed, the consistent thrusts now replaced with short, hard pounds of the Mondo’s hips against Michelangelo’s rear.Mike sucked on the fingers presented to him, Mondo adding a second as he came increasingly close to blowing his load.“I’ve always loved you, babe.”Mondo huffed, sweat dripping onto Michelangelo’s skin.“You’re so goddamn hot.”The turtle felt heat in his cheeks at the carnal compliment, their usual social filters dropped as they copulated on the bed.“I’d do anything for you.Anything to you.Anything with you.”Mondo panted, his climax closer still.“I want to fill you, babe.Do you want me to fill you up?”Michelangelo gurgled around the fingers but nodded fiercely, those digits withdrawing as Mondo once again shoved the turtle’s head down into the sheets.Moans mixed with taunts and demands, of Michelangelo demanding Mondo to cum for him, of Mondo taunting Michelangelo’s place beneath him, of their mutual pleasure with the other’s performance.

The gecko stopped once again, pulling out only to flip Michelangelo onto his shell and force his way back inside, bending the turtle’s hips and legs back towards his head.Mondo stared into Michelangelo’s eyes as he resumed fucking the turtle beneath him, watching the terrapin groan and squeal as the gecko clearly hit just the right spot inside of him.“Look at me.”Michelangelo’s eyes shot open, Mondo grabbing the turtle’s upper arms and pinning him into the sheets while pushing him back and forcing the turtle to bend and curl up beneath him.His lips pressed to Mike’s lube-stained mouth, their tongues exploring each other while Mondo continued his thrusts.The gecko broke the kiss, sweat dripping freely from his forehead and onto Michelangelo’s own.“I’m gonna cum, Mike.”

“Do it.”Michelangelo pleaded, the gecko’s pace becoming ragged and unpredictable as he threw all his strength into each thrust.Michelangelo moaned approvals and encouragements as the gecko put his all into the final strokes of his performance, his grip tightening painfully on Mike’s arms as Mondo finally shot his load into the turtle.Shot after shot of spunk flooded Michelangelo’s rear, Mondo’s body spasming with each stream of ejaculate, his jaw slack as he gulped for air.As his orgasm finally subsided, Mondo fell backwards onto his knees and popped free of Michelangelo’s pig hole, panting a bit as he caught his breath.Mike’s legs floated down to the bed as he was let go from the gecko’s grip, a light chuckle coming from the turtle as his own adrenaline subsided.“Damn.”

“What?”

“Can’t feel my legs.”Michelangelo giggled, still high on both medication and endorphins.“Didn’t think you’d actually wreck me.”Mondo chuckled as well, eyeballing Mike’s still-open ass.“Hand me a towel?”

“Nuh-uh.”Mondo refused, laying down on his back and turning around to face Michelangelo’s rear, his spunk starting to pool at the opening.“I told you I’d clean up my mess.”Michelangelo couldn’t respond before Mondo’s tongue flicked over his sensitive taint, the turtle squealing and instinctively trying to close his legs.The gecko’s arms shot up and kept the knees apart, using them as leverage to pull their bodies closer together so Mondo could get inside Mike’s ass properly.His tongue lapped up his own mess leaking from Michelangelo’s pig hole toy, then forced its way past and into his lover’s ass properly.This was something he’d been damn curious about since Michelangelo showed up on their doorstep, of eating out the turtle after some rough lovemaking.The turtle covered his mouth to stifle a moan, squirming on the bed.

“D-dude!What are you doing?!That’s my ass!”

“I’m cleaning you out.”Mondo spat, pulling his tongue out just long enough to speak.“What?I know you’re clean up there.Don’t sweat it.”The terrapin squealed again as Mondo’s wet, slippery tongue slithered inside of him, the sensation incredibly pleasant after such a rough ride.He felt the gecko lick every drop of his load out of Michelangelo’s rear, the muscles around his tail clenching as Mondo reached places he’d never been stimulated before.His moans rose in pitch when the gecko found Michelangelo’s prostate region, that extra-long tongue pressing in against the wall there and setting off the bundled nerve endings contained within.Despite his cock cage and smoothed groin, the pleasure felt very much like the precipice of climax, like he were actually getting off.He hated himself for it, but he wanted more.

“M-more.”Michelangelo begged, Mondo teasing that area with a sharp flick of his tongue.“I s-said more!Please!”The gecko obliged, massaging that area with his tongue while occasionally dedicating time to the other parts of Mike’s ass, getting the turtle nice and clean.Lube and spunk mixed together with his own spit as he swallowed, giving his tongue a brief respite before plunging back in and pleasuring his partner.Michelangelo felt this intense pressure inside his pelvis, a foreign feeling of fullness that seemed to climb the more the gecko pressed against that particular part of his rectal wall, completely detached from his cock while simultaneously being more intense than his usual masturbation sessions.“H-harder!”The turtle begged, Mondo trying an experiment with his anatomy and pulling his tongue back, then thrusting it outward as if trying to catch bugs like his non-mutated namesake.The ball end of his tongue slammed against Michelangelo’s prostate, the turtle’s knees pressing sharply together as he moaned loudly, a wave of pleasure washing over him as the organ was pegged.The gecko repeated the process again and again, Mike’s hands gripping the sheets and twisting them tightly in his fists, a howl of ecstasy screaming forth as he climaxed from Mondo’s attentions.Despite the cock cage and his rubber-filled genital pouch, the rubber seemingly adapted to let his climax flow forth from his genital slit and dribble down between his legs, the gecko yanking out suddenly as he felt dampness hit his neck.Michelangelo was too awash in pleasant chemicals to respond to what just happened, Mondo sitting up just in time to see the milky white orgasm bubble forth from Mike’s crotch, clearly the result of weeks of denial.

“Damn, Mike, I thought you couldn’t cum?”Mondo asked, Michelangelo shaking venturing a hand to his genital region and dabbing at the semen there, his body spasming at the intense sensation before he took a look at his fingers.

“Me neither.”He smiled, letting his hand fall limply onto the bed.“Goddamn.”Mondo pulled himself onto his knees and sat back, chuckling at the wiped-out turtle sprawled over his bed.

“Seriously, Mike.Goddamn.”


	9. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello deals with the immediate fallout of losing his family.

Donatello’s life had been upended in that single night of debauchery and horror.Having to run to his safe house in bondage gear was beyond humiliating, as was asking for Leatherhead to help him out of the more prominent bits, such as his gag and collar.The cage was never mentioned, the genius drilling out the rivet in his own time and privacy.By the end of the first week, he was free of his physical markings of that night, the metal contraptions dumped among a smelter’s scrap, never to be seen again.With his freedom secured, Donatello went right back to the tiresome work of family security: assuming his siblings were dead, their bodies needed to be recovered and disposed of properly, and not left as some perverse trophy in some creep’s lair.Then there was the scrubbing of possessions, histories, belongings, contacts, etcetera.It meant boxing up most of the lair, building shrines, and destroying the remnants.Don couldn’t grieve effectively if, every time he turned around, he was reminded of the brothers he failed.That was the lie he told himself, anyway.

Thankfully, it never came to that.During his final checkup by Leatherhead before letting Don head back to the lair, the large gator found a black splotch under Donatello’s chin that still hadn’t healed or shrank.The initial theory was that it was some sort of pigment stain that would naturally come off as Don shed skin cells, but a closer examination showed it was actually rubber, a unique variant that had bonded with his skin in a symbiotic fashion.“Where do you think this came from, Donatello?”The gator asked incredulously, peering at an excised sample under his microscope.The genius thought back to that night in detail, and only one moment seemed probable enough to have left such a mark on him: when the carnival worker cupped his chin and ordered him out, the hand had felt wet and slimy.Don had chalked it up to his own terror and cold sweat, but now he wondered if it could’ve been from that tank.“If so, then I would not worry about your brothers as much, my friend.”

Don blinked with surprise.“Why not?It’s just rubber, right?You can’t breathe rubber.”Donatello paced anxiously.He’d watched them plunge one-by-one into the tank, he’d seen the air bubbles stop rising to the surface, he’d seen his three best friends in the entire universe drown, all in the span of a half hour.

“You can if it replicates key bodily functions across its surface, such as the lung’s oxygen cycle.”Leatherhead corrected, grabbing a scalpel from the desk and slicing it against Don’s throat without warning.The genius yelped and jumped back in anger, the gator holding up a bloodied blade.“Sorry, my friend.Just testing a hypothesis.”He set the knife down and carefully pulled Don’s hands away, smiling.“Just as I thought.Cellular regeneration, too.Go see for yourself.”Don did as instructed, walking to a nearby mirror and examining the cut closely.While it was plainly clear where the cut had occurred, he could also see the rubber acting as his skin while the organic tissue repaired itself.A look at his own hands showed tiny dots of blood instead of a full line, meaning the substance was able to stop bleeding faster than he could react to an injury.“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Donatello had to agree, it certainly was an amazing substance.“So if someone, say, inhaled or ingested it…”

“It’s just a hypothesis, but I would expect the substance to supplement or augment the bodily functions of the tissue it covered, such as breathing for the lungs, or diets for the digestive tract.”Leatherhead slipped a camera over the microscope eyepiece, projecting the visual onto a television.“It looks entirely organic, but at the same time, clearly is of extraterrestrial origin.”Donatello stepped to the monitor and took a better look, the rubber ‘cells’ clearly dividing and dying off in equal measure, unlike an organic life form.“I suspect that there is some sort of intelligence or communication involved, but without a more substantive sample, I cannot be sure.All I can be sure of is that it adheres to _anything_ organic in its liquid form, and is fed by the bioenergy of its host.So it’s is in the best interests of this life form that the host remains alive and well.”

“So my family is alive?”Donatello felt hope return to his soul for the first time in days, the gator shaking his head.

“I cannot say for sure if they still are, only that, at the time of this ‘game’ you witnessed, they almost certainly were.Perhaps that is why they were weighed down and tormented in such sexually violent ways?”The scientist offered, Donatello rubbing the bridge of his nose at those painfully humiliating memories.Of course that’s why those stupid devices were involved; they weren’t being slain, they were being prepared for service.“I am sorry, Donatello, but I lack the equipment to give you a better answer.”

That night, Donatello raced back to the lair.With a near-infinite supply of the substance from his own body, he set out to experiment on it and find ways of freeing his siblings, or even finding them.“Donatello, I see you have finally returned to me.”Splinter greeted him from the dining room, the old rat looking somber.“I am glad you are safe, my son.Please, come sit with me.”The genius hesitated, but knew he couldn’t turn down the old rat’s request.He had given Splinter a very, _very_ brief summary of the night once he had escaped, minus all the more ‘adult’ details involved.He’d not told his father about the discovery with Leatherhead, either, though that became the first matter of enquiry once pleasantries had been exchanged.“What is that mark on your chin, my son?Are you wounded?”

“No!That’s something LH discovered.”Donatello brightened up, grabbing his Father’s hands in his.“Master Splinter…we think the others are alive and well.”The old rat seemed unfazed by this joyful news at first, Donatello squeezing his father’s hands again to try and reassure him of his seriousness.“This stuff on my chin, it’s the same stuff in that tank, and it’s _alive._ It heals wounds, and we think it can even assist with breathing and eating, if ingested.I mean, we need to do more tests, but thus far…”. He trailed off, the old rat pulling his hands away and folding them on the table.

“I have not been able to reach them during my meditation, but I have felt their presence in other ways, my son.”The rat rose from the table and paced over to the living room, his cane pointing at the stack of game consoles Michelangelo had cultivated.“For instance, this box that Michelangelo cherishes so much keeps turning on and interrupting my stories.”Donatello raised an eyebrow, joining their Father in the living room.Sure enough, the power light was bright white and steady, indicating the system was on, and the fan’s hum meant some game was being played on it.“I know I am being selfish in this time of grieving, Donatello, but I thought you might be able to interpret its meaning and perhaps get it to stop.I appreciate my son’s spirit feeling the need to tease me even in his absence, but a Father’s discipline must always be present, especially when his children are away.”The rat smiled, his cane making a ‘tank’ sound against the concrete of the lair as it tapped the floor.Donatello turned on the television only to see Michelangelo’s character vaulting around a recent game.

“That’s weird.Someone is definitely playing this game using Michelangelo’s account.”The olive turtle looked around the lair to see if it was a prank, Splinter’s grin growing wider as Donatello seemed stumped.

“Didn’t Michelangelo have a way of meditating with this game of his from the farm?”Splinter suggested, Donatello smacking his forehead.

“Yeah, he used Remote Play to-“Donatello froze, eyes going wide as the realization hit him.“He’s using Remote Play!”The turtle spun and hugged Splinter tight, lifting the rat off the ground and squealing with delight.“He’s using Remote Play!HE’S USING REMOTE PLAY!”Splinter pushed back and landed gracefully on the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles in his robe.

“In English, my son.”

Donatello beamed brightly.“MICHELANGELO IS ALIVE!”


	10. Coronation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael gives his Prince a coronation gift.

Raphael watched stars and planets streak by the window as the ship passed through hyperspace, letting his eyes refocus to stare at his reflection in the mirror.His suit visor had been polished, his black form stitched with precious metals and fine jewels, his body clean and prepared for the imminent return of his Prince.He looked down at his hands and couldn’t help but smile, his nails inked permanently with crushed rubies, the emblem of the Triceraton empire sewn onto the back of his hands with gold thread.He was a living masterpiece for the man he dutifully served, the beautiful lover who occupied his entire life.Today would mark a momentous occasion, the coronation of a new King, and the Prince demanded Raphael be at his side.

_Fight it._

Those words rang quietly in the back of his mind, a tremor in his fingers as something sought control over his body.His Prince assured him it was nothing, that he was perfect.Yes, Raphael was perfect.

_Fight it, Raphael._

Again with the words!He didn’t need to fight, so long as he performed his duties as consort to the Prince.He just needed to obey, to serve, to love.His was a simple life, a warrior-made-lover to Triceraton loyalty.It was the highest honor, he was told, to have a warrior chosen as royal consort.A privilege reserved for the finest, their strongest, warriors as fierce and deadly on the battlefield as they were compassionate and tender in bed.Raphael fit all those descriptors far better than any warrior in the Empire, so much so that he had been gifted from Earth as tribute and accepted by their gracious ruler.Yes, that was how he arrived here, so very far from home.

_Fight, Raphael!_

His fingers shook, his head pounded.

_FIGHT!_

“Raphael?”His fever broke, the entirety of his universe shrinking in importance compared to the reflection of his Prince in the mirror.“Are you alright?”

“No, my Prince.I am having those words of doubt again.”He confessed, hanging his head low.“I am so sorry, my liege.I am still broken.”The Triceraton floated along the floor to Raphael’s side, his gloved hands squeezing Raph’s chin and forcing his head high.Their gazes locked together through their reflections in the window, those cold, fierce eyes of his Prince quenching the flames of rebellion in his mind.Raphael felt tears welling up in his eyes at his failure, the regal figure stroking at the sides of Raphael’s lips and hushing him.

“It is normal for a warrior to feel the need to fight, Raphael, and you are the finest warrior in the universe.”The Triceraton’s words flowed like wine, Raphael’s ears getting drunk on their every syllable.“Yet now, you are my consort.Consorts do not fight, do they?”Raphael shook his head, the Prince tapping his cheek gently.“Exactly.You must accept your place by my side, and release this past of yours.”The turtle nodded meekly, his Prince craning his head around to kiss at Raphael’s cheek.“Are you prepared for the ceremony today, my pet?”

“Yes, my Prince.I have done as you asked.”The Prince released him so that Raphael could demonstrate his alterations as directed, the turtle folding his arms over his chest in an X-shape, fingers splayed wide.“The emblem of the empire has been stitched to my flesh in the purest of gold, the highest quality rubies crushed and inked into my nails so that they may permanently glitter red like the blood of our enemies.”Raphael’s arms snapped to his sides, chin lifting sharply to display his neck, a platinum ring piercing through his flesh with more gold stitched into a delicate pattern around him like a collar.“The royal designs and rings have been embedded into my body, so that no one may mistake me for a common whore.”He dropped to his knees, clasping his wrists behind his shell and leaning back slightly, submitting to the will of his lover.“All I require now is whatever my Prince desires in his consort.”

_Do not submit, Raphael!Fight him!_

The Triceraton stepped to the side and removed an exquisitely luxurious box, opening it out of Raphael’s view.“I can tell you mean every word, my dutiful consort, but traditions dictate we repeat ourselves.”The Prince’s gloved fingers held a golden harness above Raphael’s head, golden chains woven with titanium and platinum in equal measure as if they were fine silk, crimson rubies mounted where the chains connected.“With this crown, I take your speech.”He lowered it onto the Turtle’s head, carefully aligning the center chain between Raphael’s eyes and over his head, the harness designed with surgical steel hooks to keep Raphael’s mouth wide open while a tongue depressor would keep him silent.The turtle smiled brightly up at the Prince, eagerly parting his jaws so that his husband could secure the contraption to him.Each hook slid comfortably into his jaw, pulling the flesh back just enough to keep his mouth open without straining the muscles within.Another chain ran from the tongue bit and down through his neck piercing, before branching off to circle around either side of his neck and connect back at the rear of his head.A gigantic ruby hid the micro-sized vibration welders that each chain clicked into behind his skull, ensuring the device could not be removed without damaging the precious metals or gems within.

_Resist, Raphael!This isn’t you!_

Raphael rose his hands high above his head, arms twisting together and fingers splaying out while his knees spread wide and hips thrusted forward, presenting his pelvic region for the Prince to decorate next.“With these corsets, I take your masculinity.”The Triceraton lowered a golden silk down over Raphael’s loins, the more precious metals acting as flat, smooth chains for the waistband and under straps.He wrapped the waistband around Raphael’s hips and into another Ruby at the rear, three straps of gold silk dangling from the turtle’s taint.The Prince guided two around the curvature of Raphael’s buttocks on either side before pressing them to the waist chain, the third sliding up along the crack of the terrapin’s ass and to the waist chain as well.The Triceraton kissed his partner on the mouth as he pushed the Ruby nestled above Raphael’s tail, the golden fabric becoming hard and embedding itself into the rubber of Raph’s skin.

_FIGHT HIM!_

Raphael shifted positions again, this time thrusting his arms down along his sides and pressing his thighs together, arms bent at the elbows while his knees pushed forward.The hardest part of the dance, his Prince took care guiding the heavy gold cloth under Raphael’s thighs and down to the underside of his knees, wrapping it up over the tops of his legs before tucking it back beneath him again.His hand ran along its seam as if he were sealing an envelope, the gold fabric tightening around the turtle’s thighs and sinking into his skin, leaving behind a single, solid pattern of royal design, the tense metal marrying his thighs together and robbing him of movement beyond a subservient shuffle.A similar process was repeated with Raph’s upper arms, winding behind them and under his armpit, then racing across his chest to wrap around the other arm.There too, the cloth melted into an intricate pattern showing the royal markings, and bound his upper arms to his torso.“With those cloths, I take your fight.You are my consort, now and forever.Now rise.”Raphael did as he was asked, carefully adjusting to his new bondage and rising to his feet.The Prince circled him as if he were appraising a slave, gloved fingers running along Raphael’s exposed intimates.“You cannot run.You cannot fight.You cannot speak.You cannot resist.”The Triceraton stated these as facts, Raphael’s head high and proud.A finger probed at his still-gaping rear, his ‘pig hole’ stretched and tailored for the perfect comfort of his Prince.The touch made Raphael groan and shudder, the Triceraton smirking.“You are my trained pet, my consort.You will have the highest position in the Empire as my personal servant, slave, and even my husband.”Raphael perked up at that last term, the Prince picking up on his reaction with a toothy grin.“Kings are not permitted to have Queens or Kings as their partner or spouse.It is customary for the ruler to take their favorite warrior as their personal companion, to show their dominance over all Triceratons by emasculating their partner before the gathered Empire at their coronation ceremony.”Raphael shuddered as that finger shoved inside of him, quickly joined by a second while the other hand grabbed hard at his chin, squeezing uncomfortably tight.“You are not special, Raphael.You are not important.You are merely a toy for me to break and dispose of at my leisure.These gemstones and precious ores are the price to be paid for the treatment you will endure under me.”

_FIGHT, RAPHAEL!FIGHT BACK!_

Raphael’s fingers began to quiver with rage, his Prince chuckling aloud.“Oh dear, did I strike a nerve?”His fingers began thrusting inside Raph’s rectum, the turtle trying to suppress his moans of pleasure while simultaneously embracing his anger.“Like I told you, my pet.You cannot run.”The Prince delivered a kick to Raphael’s knees, the turtle falling forward and off the Triceraton’s fingers with an audible slurp.“You cannot fight.”The alien’s boot kicked him forward again, Raphael unable to stop his fall with his bound arms.His yelp of pain came out as little more than a gurgle from his silenced throat, the disgusting Prince rolling him over onto his shell with a third kick.“You cannot speak.And with this…”. The Triceraton pulled a remote from his jacket, Raphael’s eyes widening in fear, knowing what came next.“You cannot resist.”

Raphael had been floating in darkness.His last memories were of that contraption being strapped to his head, earphones jammed into his hearing canals, and a high pitched whine accompanying a dazzling array of colors.Then, blackness.


	11. Spy Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo is fed up with the constant surveillance.

“It’s been twelve weeks, dude!Let me see him already.”Michelangelo complained, gesturing angrily with his hands.“You can’t just keep me cooped up here forever.He knows I’m alive, and he knows I’m playing video games, so why not just let me see him?”Mondo and Rocksteady kept out of the conversation, Bebop massaging his temples in frustration.

“We’ve been over this.We’re still under surveillance-“

“By who?!”Mikey’s fists attempted to slam the table, Rocksteady’s arm blocking the angry pounding as he shot a glare at the turtle.“Sorry, Rocks.I’m just…”

“Eet’s okay.Tortle iz right to be upset.”Rocksteady pulled his arm back, massaging it out of sight under the table.Michelangelo was much stronger than his small form appeared.

“And I don’t know by who.They haven’t approached me, or us, or you, so all I know is _someone_ is watching us.”Bebop continued, rubbing his face and dragging his fingers down over his eyes and cheeks, stretching the fur and flesh out.“It’s been drivin’ me crazy.”

Mondo leaned back in the chair, balancing it on its rear legs.“Tell me about it.Night and day, they’re watching every single window.At first I thought it was the fuzz, but they move too quickly and quietly to be pigs.”Bebop coughed, the gecko walking back his statement with a bashful grin.“No offense to the actual pigs and pig-relatives in the room, ah-heh.”Michelangelo sighed and pinched the bridge of his beak, the rubber squeaking against itself quietly.

“No offense to you three, but you’re not ninja.You’re good at spotting sirens and flashing lights, not like, actual assassins.”Mike paced his side of the table for a moment, snapping his fingers with an idea.“If they’re watching us, then why not go meet them?And take me with you?”The three looked at him incredulously, Michelangelo trying to prevent an argument before it began by explaining his plan.Mondo and Bebop didn’t look entirely onboard with the idea, but Rocksteady couldn’t hide his big grin.

“I like diz plan, tortle.Let’s do eet.”

An hour later, and Bebop was waiting on the rooftop they’d noticed their spy watching them from, Rocksteady carrying a bag over his shoulder with a grunt.As Bebop lit a cigarette to advertise his position, the rhino kept an eye out for their mystery friend.It wasn’t long before they were joined on the rooftop by a cloaked presence, the pair of mutants turning to face their visitor with frustrated growls.“Alright, you’ve been watchin’ us for weeks, now, and we’ve had it.What do you want?”The visitor remained silent, the boar flicking his cigarette at the shadow with a disgruntled sucking of his teeth.“Well?Ever since I took my prize home, you’ve been keeping a very careful eye on the three of us, and last I checked, I didn’t sign no contract agreeing to that.”The shadow remained still and silent, Bebop looking to Rocksteady for guidance.The rhino merely nodded, the boar taking another step forward.“You want the toy, is that it?”The shadow nodded, Bebop clicking his fingers together.“Then take it.”

Rocksteady hurled the bag at the shadow’s feet, a frightened yelp coming from its contents.They watched as their surveyor opened the bag and examined the bound and gagged turtle within, Michelangelo’s eyes wide with fear as the glint of a blade flashed above him.He shook with terror at the cloaked figure, trying to squirm away from the blade as it approached his flesh in a seeming attempt to execute him.Rocksteady and Bebop held their ground and glared at the figure’s movements, frightened squeals and pleas coming from the terrapin and filling the rooftop as the blade pressed to his neck.A bright light suddenly filled the rooftop and illuminated all its occupants, Mondo aiming a floodlight square at the robed figure.“NOW!”

“Booyah!”Michelangelo sprung into action with an upward double kick, his bondage shaking free and falling to the ground around him.Bebop began circling to the right while Rocksteady ran to the front of the building, pulling a sawed-off shotgun from his belt and letting a load of beanbags at the assailant.The spy easily dodged the turtle’s kick only to take a beanbag to their side, spinning with the impact to try and minimize the pain of the blow.Bebop was ready with his stun baton, but the assailant was quicker still, tossing his cloak around the baton and blocking its electrical effects as it slammed into his shoulder, sending the spy reeling to the ground.Michelangelo had bounced off the ground and into a somersault, ready to slam his fist into the guy’s skull with his landing, a devious grin on his face.“Gotcha now, bitch!”His elation dropped instantly as he saw Donatello’s eyes staring anxiously up at him from the ground, his bo staff rising for a guard across Mike’s chest and knocking the turtle backward with a heavy impact.As Bebop, Rocksteady, and Mondo began to move in for another attack, Michelangelo croaked weakly from his spot on the ground nearby.“STOP!It’s Donnie!”The trio screeched to a halt, looking over at their winded brother-in-arms to see him giving them a thumbs-up, then turning their attention to the well-armed, angry-looking turtle between them.Their guard collectively dropped, Rocksteady sliding his firearm into its holster while Bebop dropped onto the ground with a heavy sigh, Mondo still looking between Michelangelo and Donatello with a look of confusion.

“So wait…your brother was spying on us?”

“I wasn’t spying on you!”Donatello tried defending himself while Rocksteady inspected the bruise on his plastron, covering it with a wound pad and wrapping gauze around his shell and chest to hold it in place.“I was trying to find a way to rescue Michelangelo from you creeps.”Their tiny dinner table was hardly the place for such a conference, but arguing on the rooftop was hardly appropriate for five mutants at two in the morning.As the rhino finished bandaging up Donatello, Michelangelo began handing out some beer to his roommates, along with some cold water for his idiot-scientist-brother.

“I’ve been here for twelve weeks, all because Bebop thought the Foot or someone was spying on us!”Michelangelo chided him angrily, smacking the back of Don’s head.“Master Splinter is probably worried sick about me, you dumb idiot.”

“And you used all my stash!”Mondo ‘contributed’ from the living room, four angry glares reminding him how ‘important’ that perceived grievance actually was.“Y’know, because he was stressed from the surveillance?”

“Not now, Mondo.”Bebop steered discussion back to the matter at hand.“If I’d known it was you, I would’ve invited ya in.Why didn’t you say anything?”Donatello took a sip of water and stared down into the glass with a sigh.

“Because I thought you lot had kidnapped him.Last time we met, you _did_ try to crack my shell apart with a sledgehammer.”Rocksteady chuckled to himself at the rekindled memory, Don and Mike raising quizzical eyebrows at him.

“Vat?”The rhino shrugged.“Div’rent times. Water under bridge, da?”The two turtles sighed, Bebop reaching over the table to rub at Rocksteady’s horn comfortingly.

“All in good time, Rocks, all in good time.”The boar knocked back several gulps of beer, then leveled his bottle at Don accusingly.“So, smart guy, how much did you see anyway?”Donatello leaned over the table with a wry grin, challenging the boar’s dominance.

“Enough to call the cops on your asses, if I wanted to.Knocking over ATMs isn’t exactly legal, you know.”The genius smirked, Bebop defending his position.

“Yeah, well it’s hard to get a regular gig when you’re a mutant animal.”The two stared each other down, Michelangelo setting his own beer bottle down between them to break up a potential Round Two.

“Can we focus, please?Knocking over a few ATMs for cash isn’t exactly high crime, here.It’s not like anyone is losing anything of value.”Even Don couldn’t argue that point, as the money was always insured, and ATMs hit always belonged to the huge, multi-national banks.“You still haven’t answered why you didn’t bother contacting _me_ , Don, _your brother_.That is what I’m upset about.”

“Like you have any reason to be!Twelve weeks of video games, beer, cannabis, and sex, sex, sex-“A loud crack filled the room as Michelangelo’s open palm connected hard against Don’s cheek, the geeky brother genuinely shocked at Mike’s aggression.Only when he saw the tears welling up in his little brother’s eyes did he realize he crossed a line.“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“You’re damn right it wasn’t.I didn’t have a say in any of this, you know.You got to go home, got to get free of your little party gifts, but your brothers have been scattered to the wind and turned into living sex objects.”Michelangelo laughed anxiously, taking another swig of beer.“I had sex because it made me feel loved despite what I was.I had sex because I _needed_ it, Don.Like…like it was a compulsion.”He finished the rest of his alcohol in one go, tossing the empty bottle into the recycling and pacing the room.“Do you have any idea how humiliating my life is, now?My ass is always full with that toy inside of me, and the longer I go without it being filled completely, the more desperate I get.Hell, I actually produce lube instead of sweat, now!Just keeping up with my daily practice drives me insane with lust!”The room was dead quiet as the turtle ranted and vented aloud, his hands shaking with anger.“And after all of that hell with Leo and Raph…these three take me in.They temper my lust and my sex drive with compassion, and kindness, and empathy.They don’t let me give in to it, not completely.They make me fight it, and they took care of me, even…”. He stopped, finally letting tears roll down his cheeks.“Even when my own brother just sits and watches from afar.I was alone, and they gave me a new family, and a new purpose.They risked their lives to protect me, Don, and you don’t get to sit there and judge.Not today.”The olive turtle stayed quiet as Michelangelo stomped off to Mondo’s room, shutting the door behind him.Mondo tried to give chase, Rocksteady intercepting the gecko before he got too far.

“ _Nyet_.I will talk to tortle alone.”The rhino stood up and treaded delicately into Mondo’s room, quiet sobbing heard from within while the door was briefly ajar.Alone with Bebop and Mondo, Donatello felt like shit, and didn’t know what, if anything, he could say to make things right.Bebop made the move for him, standing up from the table and cleaning up the empty bottles.

“You should head home for the night.He’s got a lot to think about.”He hitched a thumb over toward the window.“I assume you’re familiar with fire escapes?”

“I should take him with me.Back home, I mean.”Don protested quietly, still staring into his glass.His fingers trembled slightly, worried that if he doesn’t take Michelangelo now, that there may not be another chance later.“He’ll be safer there.”

“Physically, maybe.”The boar jabbed back, eyeing Donatello angrily.“But he’s safe enough here as well, if all you care about is physical safety.”Don couldn’t argue with that.What Michelangelo needed now, he couldn’t give him.Bebop sighed, placing a hand on the turtle’s shell and patting it reassuringly.“Yer welcome back here as soon as he invites ya.We won’t keep you two apart, but he’s gotta be the one askin’ ya over.”Donatello nodded, slowly standing up from the table and slogging over to the window, climbing through and out to the fire escape.“Hey.”

“Hm?” Don stopped, glancing down at Bebop through the window.

“He missed ya a heck of a lot more than ya realize.He’ll be fine.Just…ya gotta be open to change, is all.He ain’t the same brother ya knew that night.”Donatello leaned over, watching Rocksteady cradle Michelangelo in his arms and rub the terrapin’s shell, his brother still sobbing into the brute’s chest.He’d been so wrapped up in getting his family back, that he hadn’t considered what they’d gone through since their separation.A cold wind made Don shiver, a storm riding in toward the city.“We ain’t the same either, you know.”Bebop smiled.

“You’re still criminals, Bebop.”Don rebuffed him coldly, plotting a mental map back to the lair.“Don’t hurt my brother.”

The boar chuckled.“Wouldn’t dream of it.G’night, brainiac.”He closed the window and latched it tight, a rumble of thunder passing over the rooftop.

Donatello took off for home, alone.


	12. Teaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonardo settles into the role of teacher, with a very unique schedule.

Leonardo stuck his arm out into the outside air, the warmth of the sun soothing his skin.It was day one hundred by his count, give or take a few days due to storms.He had grown accustomed to his lack of sight or sound by now, and had settled into a standard routine in his new life.After checking the time, he would begin his morning kata practice, finishing just in time for a good amount of lube to be formed in his jaw and rear, and for Slash to have woken from slumber.After his morning ‘service’ to his owner, he would be nourished by the brute and then left to his meditation, during which he would attempt to reach his siblings, always to no avail.Slash would bother him sometime thereafter with more nourishment, then bring him the plastic alphabet magnets Leo used to teach him to read.If Leo was going to be Slash’s pet for the foreseeable future, then he decided to better the life of his captor however he could.Teaching the fellow turtle to read was the least he could do, especially with how well his behavior towards Leo had improved over their time together.“R…R…Raaaaaa”. Slash sounded out the letters, Leonardo digging through the pile for the lower case sizes and laying out a phonetic pronunciation.He glided his fingers under the first three letters, letting Slash sound them out.“Raaaa…Raff?Raff!”He couldn’t hear the turtle, but he could feel his deep voice resonating off the surfaces of the room.In a unique form of echolocation only Leo would think of, let alone accomplish, he could understand what Slash was saying so long as the fellow turtle was nearby or touching Leo directly.

“Very good, Slash.And the next one?”

Leo couldn’t see the turtle squint, but he could feel Slash’s presence shift as his head peered closer at the letters.“Eye!”

“Wonderful.Try the last one for me.”

“Eh…Ellllll.Elle?”The ‘L’ sound was a difficult one to get across to him, but Slash was an eager learner.“Raff eye Elle.”The gears turned in the turtle’s mind, the realization practically audible when all the puzzle pieces clicked into place.He grabbed Leo’s hand and dragged it across the proper spelling, sounding it out with glee.“Raphael!That Raphael’s name!”

Leo nodded happily.“Yes it is.And how do you spell Raphael’s name?”Slash paused, grumbling as he sat and thought about it, reading the letters in front of him one at a time.Leo knew the turtle hated this part, but it was also key to getting basic reading comprehension across.He had to know how words were spelled as well as sounded, so he could follow along with their growing collection of books.

“R…A…puh-P.R-A-P, uh…H!R-A-P-H-A-E-L.Raphael!”Leo squeezed the hand Slash offered him, smiling as the turtle completed their lesson today.

“That’s excellent, Slash.Raphael will be very proud of you.” The massive beast clapped like an eager child, Leonardo taking the letters back and putting them away in their box.“Was there anything you wanted to do next, Slash?” Leo hated asking this question, as odds were Slash would ask for sex, and that meant Leo was at the mercy of his sloppy lube jobs.The morning and evening sessions usually satiated his own constantly growing lust, but Slash was, in a word, insatiable.

“I tired.You go play.”Leo could hear the turtle stand up and clomp over to their bed, flopping onto it with a heavy thud.His afternoon free, Leo would usually spend it just outside the door to their hideout, basking in the warm sun or running through more katas.Today was no different, and moments after Slash was asleep, Leo was furiously running through the entire set of katas he knew, drilling through them until dinner time.He could feel the position of the sun sink in the sky as he practiced, the heat on his rubber skin shifting along with it.Halfway to sundown, and on his fourth repetition, his senses detected a spectator nearby.He paused, facing them with a defensive posture and ready for an attack.

“Can you even see your form like that?”A voice called out, Leo unable to hear it through his hood.His trick worked with slash because of the beast’s incredibly low, bass-heavy voice, but anything higher than a rumble was inaudible.The figure leapt from the trees and threw a casual punch at Leonardo, the turtle feeling the air shift around his arm before moving to block it.

“Just because I am blind and deaf, does not mean I am defenseless.”Leo held the block, kick sending dirt against his shins just before the limb could connect, giving him time to sidestep the attack.The two sparred in silence, testing the limits of the handicapped terrapin.A leg sweep finally did him in, sending him to the ground with a thud.As soon as he opened his mouth to call for Slash, a soft, delicate hand smothered him long enough for the other to sign her name against Leo’s chest.The hand carefully withdrew, Leonardo in shock.“K-karai?”She pulled him upright with both arms, Leo gladly accepting her aid.“What are you doing here?”

_Saving you, obviously_.She signed against his hands, Leo tilting his head in disbelief. _What?Can’t we all get along for once?_

“You’ll forgive me if I doubt your sincerity.”Leo was a bit cool with his response, his relationship with the leader of the Foot Clan best described as ‘rocky, even in fair weather’.“But I will not turn down aid in my condition.How do you intend to help me?”

_By removing your handicap, of course._ Leo felt a cold blade against his throat, just below where that triangle had been cut from him months ago.He remained still, one of Karai’s hands signing against his chest while her other held the blade steady. _Close your eyes, and prepare to cover your ears._

“Hai.”That was all Karai needed to hear, a quick slice of the blade exposing the cooling afternoon air to new flesh.He felt her fingers dive into the cut before it could fully heal, pulling at his head like she were peeling a fruit of its skin.It didn’t hurt, even if it did feel odd, and he could occasionally feel the blade make more cuts or slices along his neck as she worked.The process was slow and methodical, with a level of precision a surgeon would be envious of.Soon, the mask had been peeled off his neck and the back of his head, bare skin being exposed to fresh air for the first time since that fateful night, intensely bright light shining on his eyelids even though they remained closed.His hands moved to cover his hearing canals as the substance was peeled off of them, his ears bombarded with familiar sounds of birds and water, of wind and leaves.The last bit slipped from his scalp with a pop, his brain overloaded with visual and auditory information he’d been denied for so long.

“Here, put these in your ears.”Even though Karai’s voice was a whisper, he could hear her clearly through the hands covering his ear canals.He shoved the offered foam plugs into his ears as instructed, the sound level immediately becoming bearable once both were in.While he was quieting the world around him, Karai was sliding a pair of goggles over his eyes, filtering out excess light so that his eyes could safely recover.“There.Wear the earplugs for a day, and the goggles for a week.Then you should be able to remove both safely.”

“Arigatou.”Leo adjusted the goggles, the world around him clear, albeit dark.“I presume that was you a few months ago?Cutting a chunk of flesh from my neck, I mean.”Karai nodded, the kunoichi wiping her blade clean of the black rubber clinging to it.“What was that all about?”

“Research.”She sheathed her blade, circling Leonardo as the turtle took in his first real sights in ages.They were in a dense forest, the leaves changing colors as fall approached.Slash had apparently taken nest in an old home, long abandoned, its roof collapsed on the second floor and the ground floor bulging outward from stress.Hardly the safest place to live, but he could deal with that later.“Your skin is remarkably quick to heal, but that hood was not.I needed to test how thick the leather was, so that I could remove it from you before your new skin tried to graft it back on.”She approached the turtle and wiped at his beak with the back of her hand, making a dissatisfied grunt as the black rubber clung there.“Unfortunately, I could not do the same with your skin proper.”

“Why help me at all, though?”Leonardo stepped around her, watching the wildlife flutter about in the tree canopy.“We’re not exactly allies.”He spat onto the ground, lube slipping free of his jaw and splattering against the dirt.Karai picked up on the odd habit, as well as the glistening of the skin under his tail.

“Because when I beat you, Leonardo, I demand you be at your best.”She followed the turtle as he walked around, studying his form.Despite the handicaps to his vision and hearing, the rough treatment from the burly mutant inside, and the lack of a proper sparring partner, Leo’s form was just as impeccable as she remembered.“Your form is sloppy.”She lied, Leo laughing.

“I don’t doubt it.I’ve not been at my best for a while now.”Heat bubbled in his cheeks from the prior workout, more lube leaking from his rear and pooling in his mouth.He chanced a glance at Karai, her curves standing out far more than normal.“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”He sat on the steps to the house, attempting to hide his condition from her and spitting off to the side again.“So…any word on my brothers?”Karai stood opposite him, staring down at the hobbled terrapin.

“Raphael is off world.Michelangelo lives with that boar and his two mutant partners, Hip-hop-“

“Bebop.”Leonardo corrected.“Bebop and Rocksteady.”

“Yes, and that lizard of theirs.The four of them seem quite happy.”She needled Leonardo, only to see the turtle smile instead of the expected anger.He had changed far more than she had expected.“Donatello is safe, but clearly unhappy.We do not see him much, as he stays within your territory unless visiting Michelangelo.”Leonardo spat again, wiping his chin of lubricant.

“I’m glad you’re respecting our treaty in my absence.That is most honorable.”Karai hissed, crossing her arms.“I thought for sure Michelangelo would be back home by now.It’s been one hundred days.”

Karai smirked.“It has been six months, Leonardo.Your sense of time must be off.”Leo blinked with a bit of shock, picking a leaf off the ground and examining its deep, red hue.“We have had a very warm year, admittedly, and the showers accompanying spring did not begin until summer.It is not your fault you lost count.”

“Still though, six months?Why is Michelangelo still with Bebop, and not with Donatello?”Before he could spit again, Karai bent down and plumbed his jaw with a finger.She swabbed a glob of the lubricant out, smearing it between her fingers while Leo appeared visibly flustered.

“We have not had him under constant surveillance since Donatello made contact, but I suspect it’s for a similar reason as yours, staying with this monster here.”She smeared the substance on Leo’s plastron, the rubber shining beneath it.“I was unaware your kind secreted…oils, when in heat.”

Leonardo stammered, blush on his cheeks as she called him out.After spitting the pooled lube to the side once more, he lowered his head in shame.“We don’t.I believe it’s a side-effect of whatever this substance covering me is.It has been…” He wanted to say ‘interesting’, because it definitely had been, but this was not the same Leo Karai knew.He needed to assure her of his mental health.“…it has been frustrating, to but it incredibly mildly.”She wiped her fingers clean on a cloth, pocketing it in a belt pouch once done.“And yeah, until I can work through some things, I’m going to stay here.Wherever ‘here’ is, of course.”Karai removed a pouch from her belt and tossed it to Leo, the turtle catching it in his rubbery hands.

“You’re in upstate New York, in the Catskills.Approximately three days hike from the city.”Leo opened the pouch, a compass and folded map contained within.“I’ve circled your location on the map.You are on your own now, Leonardo.Do not disappoint me by dying out here.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Karai, but I have a request for you.”She smiled that evil grin of hers, pivoting on her feet to turn away from him.

“Do not worry, I will pass your greetings on to Donatello.”

“Thank you.So…what will you do now?”Leo stood, the backs of his legs slippery and shining in the afternoon light.

“I will find out who hired us as security for that night, in the hopes of locating Raphael.Curing your ‘condition’ is not my priority.”She took off into the forest before Leo could interject, the turtle watching her lean, curvy form cut through the brush, her moves graceful and attractive.Lust began clouding his mind, and he closed the pouch before tucking it in the rusted mailbox still hanging by the front door.

“Slash, I want to play.”He called out to the brute, deciding to get an early start on the evening routine.Once his lust had been satiated, he could begin planning his future.


	13. Mending Fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don and Mike meet up on the rooftop, and make amends.

Fall had given way to the early throes of winter, the trees bare and the salt barrels out on street corners.Michelangelo was in an old hoodie and skater shorts, while Don was dressed in his usual gear of pads, belt, and purple mask, albeit with the latter dangling loosely around his neck.“I heard from Leo again.He’s been mailing letters to our P.O. Box from the Catskills.”Donatello offered, leaning back on his palms and gazing up at the waning crescent moon.

“How’s fearless doing?”

“Fine, he says.His vision and hearing are back to normal, and he’s been teaching Slash to read and write.”Don left out the part about Leo’s more ‘intimate’ questions, hoping he might pry some info from his sibling here on the roof.Michelangelo lifted his fist to his mouth and inhaled, taking another hit of his vaporizer.“He said he intends to come home in Spring, if all goes well.April and Casey dumped some wintering supplies for the two of them, just in case, along with his Shell Cell.”

“That’s good.Wonder how he and Slash are getting along, given their history.”Mike pocketed his launch box in the front of his hoodie, then stooped down to grab a beer for himself.“How’s Dad?”He flicked the bottle cap off the bottle with his thumb, Donatello wincing as the sharp edges tore into Mike’s finger.Michelangelo looked over his thumb after seeing Don’s expression, then giving a dismissive shrug.“It doesn’t hurt.I think my skin is thicker, now, if that makes sense?”It didn’t, but Don had promised not to go all scientist on Michelangelo tonight.They’d been separated for nine months in all by now, and Mike had finally extended a peace offering on the condition that Don didn’t judge, didn’t pry, and didn’t look at Michelangelo like a problem to be solved, rather than a brother he’s missed.

“He misses you, of course.”Don offered a weak smile.“Though he’s glad you call him every week.”Michelangelo smiled back and took a gulp of the cold brew, wiping his lips dry.“He’s hoping you’ll come home for Christmas, even if it’s just to visit.”

“I think that’d be nice.”Michelangelo was sincere about that.He really would like to see his family again, to restore some sort of normality to their lives, even if he didn’t feel right coming home just yet.“Though it’ll be weird without Raph and Leo there.”

“Yeah.”Don replied, an awkward silence stretching between them for a moment.“So how have you been?”Michelangelo swirled the bottle around between his fingers for a moment in thought, then lied.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good.You seem happy here.”Donatello was being sincere despite his brother’s deceit.Michelangelo did seem happy here in spite of his condition, and despite Bebop’s line of ‘work’, he was safe here as well.Part of him knew that if Michelangelo returned home, he’d almost certainly be on house arrest until Don found a cure.At least here, he can climb to the roof and enjoy some company, alcohol, and ‘medicine’.A small measure of freedom, though with a high price to be paid.“I found out something interesting about that stuff.”Michelangelo feigned enough interest for Don to continue.“There’s a plus side, to whatever that is.It makes you younger.”

“Younger?What do you mean?”Don stood up and crouched under a light, exposing his own neck where a black splotch remained.“See my lines on my neck?The scars, the aging?”Michelangelo nodded.“Look at the rubbery stuff.”Mike got a better look, and had to admit that it looked much smoother and youthful than the rest of his brother.

“So…it makes you look younger?”Don shook his head.

“It makes you actually younger.Skipping the science bits, it undoes the aging damage done to your cells.That little patch under my neck?It tests out to be a year younger than me, give or take, in terms of cellular damage due to aging.”Michelangelo looked genuinely impressed, then gave himself a once-over.“You would be a lot younger, given the amount on you.Probably eighteen, nineteen years old?Just after you finished growing, but before you began aging.”

“Seriously?That’s pretty cool.Like a perpetual fountain of youth, I guess.”Michelangelo grinned, striking a pose.“I’m gonna be sexy forever, baby.”Don laughed aloud, Michelangelo joining in with genuine amusement.The smile on the younger turtle quickly faded, his expression becoming serious again.“Do you think I’ll ever get back to normal, Don?That I’ll ever be cured?”

“I don’t know.”Don didn’t mince words, taking a seat back on the rooftop and leaning back.“Though I don’t think that’s the question you wanted to ask.”The brainiac opened a mental door for Michelangelo, offering to let the younger brother be as open as he liked, and to discuss his feelings without fear of judgement or persecution.Just like old times.Michelangelo fidgeted anxiously before knocking back the entire bottle of beer in a series of gulps, swallowing the golden courage before letting himself open up.

“I hate you, Don.I hate that you always know exactly what to say to get us to talk.”Mike taunted, Don taking the backhanded compliment with a grin.“I guess…how can I put this…”. Don wanted to finish Mike’s thought for him, but knew putting words in his brother’s mouth would do more harm than good.It was important Michelangelo articulated his feelings raw, without guidance or direction.“I like me.”Mikey thumped his own chest, the hoodie billowing as air was pressed out of it.“I’m going to sound insane, but I like this.I like what I’ve become.”Don watched his brother pace on the rooftop, a gentle smile on his beak.“I feel like, in a weird way, I’m freer now than I’ve ever been before?Like, despite all the bad, the good still outweighs it.”

“Well, what’s bad about it?”Don minimized his inflection, trying to pose it as a genuine question in need of an answer, rather than a snarky quip.It went over well enough that Michelangelo didn’t mind answering.

“Problem number one?I can’t get hard.”Mike gestured to his crotch in frustration.“It’s been months, dude.I just want to fuck something so bad, even a hot pocket would suffice.”Don cringed at the mental image of sensitive flesh meeting boiling hot cheese, Michelangelo trying to salvage it with a qualifier.“Y’know, a warm one.Not one fresh out of the microwave or anything.”

“Right, the cage.I mean, I could take that off-“ Don began to offer, Michelangelo dropping his pants without warning and knocking - yes, knocking - at the solid mass of rubber housed in his genital slit.

“It’s solid rubber!I almost lost a hobby knife in there, trying to cut an opening.”Don winced, crossing his legs.“Yeah, exactly.The cage sucks, but I can’t even _get_ to the cage, dude.”

“Wait, then how do you urinate?” Don’s inquisitive scientific mind began to query, Mike shrugging.

“I haven’t had the need to go.”Don’s alarm bells went off, the terrapin sitting upright.

“For how long?A few days?”Michelangelo shook his head.

“Since this whole mess started.”

“You haven’t pissed in _nine months?!_ How are you not dead from blood poisoning or toxic shock!?”

“I dunno!You’re the scientist!”Mike threw up his hands, exasperated.“This whole body is fucked up, dude.I don’t piss, I don’t shit, I-“Don facepalmed, Michelangelo stopping another line of futile questioning.“Yes, Don, I don’t shit.I don’t use the bathroom except to shower and occasionally clean myself out.”

“That is horrific, Mike.How are you still alive?How do you even feel fine?”Michelangelo shrugged, repeating his earlier answer.“Right, the suit, got it.I accept the McGuffin at face value for now, but I am equally horrified and curious about how that’s possible.”

“Probably for the same reasons I can’t eat solid food.”Michelangelo ventured, Don’s face melting into depressing shock.“Yeah.No pizza, no bread, no solid food at all.Totally sucks, and is problem number two on Mike’s ‘biggest problems with this fucking body right now’ list.”

“Dare I ask…”

“It doesn’t digest.That’s what I mean by ‘cleaning myself out’, dude.”Don wanted to vomit, the idea of Michelangelo going on a literal liquid diet because his new body wasn’t absorbing solid food.“I can eat soup, drink beer, gulp water, even chug soda or ice cream.I just can’t eat solid food.Heck, most of the time I’m just drinking that Soylent stuff Mondo bought off the internet.”

“MOVING ON.”Don shouted, eager to dismiss his brother’s bathroom routine from his mind before bleach was required.“I assume there’s a problem three?”

“It’s not really a problem, so much as an inconvenience…and even then, only when it happens at the wrong time.This one, you might actually be able to help with.”Don massaged his forehead to evict their previous line of questioning from his skull, readying himself for Mike’s query.“I, uh…I produce lube.Like, a lot of it.”

“Most animals self-lubricate to varying degrees, Michelangelo, that’s not-“His brother spit on the ground between Don’s feet, an oily glob seeping between the gravel spread across the rooftop.“Is that…?”Don asked, Michelangelo nodding as Don’s fingers swabbed at the substance, his suspicions confirmed.“This is lube.Like, sex lube.”

“From my mouth, yeah.”

“Sex lube.” Don asked again.

“Yeah. From my mouth and my ass.” Michelangelo clarified, spitting again to show Don he was being serious.

“Sex.Lube.”Michelangelo sighed as Don seemed preoccupied on the what more than the why, the turtle bending down to pull his pants back up and buckle his belt.“I…what…”. Donatello stammered.“When do you produce it?”

“Usually when I’m hot and sweaty, like after or during a workout, but it’s been happening more and more frequently lately.”Mike spat again.“Like right now.”

“Okay…and how do you feel right now?”Michelangelo shrugged, licking his lips a little as he adjusted the crotch of his shorts.

“Fine. A little, uh…frustrated, I guess? But fine.Not hot, not sweaty, not-“

“Frustrated?”Don interrupted again.“How so?”

“You swear not to judge me for it.”Mike demanded, Donatello raising his right hand and nodding, silently swearing to be impartial.Michelangelo took a deep breath, raising his hands up to his chest as he inhaled, then lowered them again as he exhaled.“I need to be fucked. Like, right now.”Don’s hands slipped on the gravel and he fell backward onto his shell, eyes wide in shock.He tried to sputter a reply, Michelangelo throwing up his hands.“See?This is why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“N-no! No, I mean, I’m sorry, I’m just, you’re fine, I, I mean…”. Donatello tripped over his tongue, Michelangelo swishing the lube around in his jaw before hocking up another glob.“You want w-what?From me?”

“NO!”Michelangelo yelled much louder than he meant to, a barking dog reminding them of their place in the city.“No, you idiot.I meant generally.I am so unbelievably fucking horny right now that I cannot describe it.”Mike’s hands fidgeted in his hoodie for the vaporizer box, pressing the battery in and taking another, long hit.“The weed takes the edge off, but my sex drive has been gradually shifting from first gear to sixth over the past few hours.I’m dying for a good pounding.”

“Wait wait wait.Okay, sex drive I get, but you’re not hot and sweaty right now, yet you’re producing lube?And you feel incredibly horny to boot?”Michelangelo nodded, Don pulling himself upright and thinking for a moment.“Do you use lube during sex at all?”

“Not needed.They use what I produce, I guess.”Don rubbed at his chin in deep thought, Michelangelo crouching down for a look at his brother’s brown eyes.“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about how you ended up that night.The gag, the cage, the collar, the liquid transforming your flesh.You don’t need to breathe oxygen, or rather, you can survive underwater indefinitely without it.You can’t eat solid foods, but your body still derives nutrients from a liquid diet.”Michelangelo nodded, then clicked his fingers.

“I can climax, too.”Don sighed, motioning for Mikey to get it over with.“Mondo found this spot in my ass, and if he hits it hard enough-“

“Your prostate, Michelangelo.That would be your prostate, and yes, that would make you ‘climax’.”Donatello rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands, then paused his train of thought for a moment to wander down this tangent.“Wait.How?You said your crotch is, in your own words, ‘solid rubber’.How do you-“

“I dunno, but it’s like the rubber lets it through.I cum, and it just kinda trickles out my genital slit.Can’t get anything in there, but it’s almost like it’s pushing out something it doesn’t need.”Mike gradually slid his hands outward, parallel to the ground.“Feels _awesome_ , though.”

“Okay,” Don interjected, having learned far too much about his brother’s hygiene and sex life for one evening.“You can’t eat, you don’t use the restroom, you climax when your prostate is stimulated, and you produce ample amounts of lubricant in your two orifices.”

“I guess?” Michelangelo replied, rubbing his upper arms for warmth in the worsening cold.“What’s your diagnosis?”

“Well, Michelangelo, given your rubbery skin and list of symptoms, it sounds like you’re a sex toy.”Donatello sniped sarcastically before he could stop himself.Michelangelo thought for a moment, then nodded with a happy grin.

“That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what…that’s what you _thought_?!”

“Well, yeah.”Michelangelo stood up, tucking his hands into his hoodie pocket.“It makes sense, if you throw out all expected normal behavior.I mean, they kinda dressed us up as sex toys, remember?Makes sense that the rubbery stuff would play a part in that.”

“That…that is absurd, and obscene, and illogical, and…” Donatello sighed.“And it makes perfect sense.”Michelangelo giggled for the first time that night, and Don couldn’t help but laugh a little as well.“A mutant turtle sex toy.Sounds like something you’d find on Amazon.”

“Or Bad Dragon.”Michelangelo grinned, Donatello not understanding the reference.“But that’s about it for the downsides.Insatiable lust, surplus lubricant, and inability to eat solid foods.”A cold wind whipped along the rooftop, knocking over Michelangelo’s empty beer bottle with a quiet ringing of glass on rock.

“You make it sound like there are plus sides.”Don snarked, Mike’s smile fading a bit at the jab.

“Of course there are!You asked me what the bad sides were, remember?I just told you.That doesn’t mean there aren’t aspects of this I like, though.”Don raised an eyebrow in disbelief, watching his brother pace with a warm smile on his black beak.“The sex is incredible, for one, and I always get to make the other partner happy.You know me, D: I’m all about pleasing people.And while the diet sucks, it also means I’m kinda low maintenance in a way.As long as I wash stuff down with water, I’m pretty much ready to go all day, everyday.”Don bristled at the idea of his sibling whoring himself out like that, though Michelangelo ignored his opinion on the matter.“And it’s made me realize that there’s more to life than the lair and drills and patrols.That even I, _a mutant turtle sex object_ , can form meaningful relationships beyond those of my family.”He turned to look at Don, that youthful, innocent look on his face impossible to resist.“That I can be loved.That I can contribute.That I can be more than what I was before, back at the lair.”

Don smiled back.“That’s why you don’t want to come back to the lair, isn’t it?It’s not home anymore.”Michelangelo shook his head.

“I don’t know how this will all turn out, Don.None of us do.All I know is that on that night, the old me died.I saw what the world held, and what I was missing out on.I realized I had a long, long list of regrets, and I wasn’t okay dying with those on the books.”He crossed the roof toward Donatello, offering a hand down to his brother.“This might not work out.Maybe Bebop and Rocksteady will boot my ass to the curb.Maybe Mondo will want to see other guys.Maybe I’ll realize I made a horrible mistake, and should’ve come home the second I was free and able to?”Don clasped his hand and pulled himself up, the two brothers staring into each other’s eyes as if they’d been apart for years.“But all I know is that I’m not ready to leave here.Not yet.Not until I see this through to the end.”Mike wrapped his arms around Donatello and hugged his sibling tight, a tear streaking down his cheek.“I hope you understand.”

Don returned the embrace and placed a kiss on Michelangelo’s forehead, squeezing Mike’s shell.“I do now.”Rain began to splatter on their exposed skin as the wind picked up, both of them shuddering at the frigid water.“Call it a night for now?”

“Yeah, not a bad idea.I need to go break one off on the guys downstairs.”Michelangelo joked, Don giving him a playful shove.

“Dude, I so do not care about your sex life.Just be safe about it.”Donatello laughed, then squealed in shock as Michelangelo dragged his heavy, slippery tongue along his cheek, leaving a streak of lubricant behind.“DUDE!SICK!”

“I always play safe, Donnie-boy!I make my own lube after all!”Michelangelo teased before sprinting to the roof door, flicking off the light and disappearing inside.Donatello wiped the slick substance off his cheek frantically and slapped it to the ground, starting his sprint back home to update Master Splinter on Michelangelo’s well-being.


	14. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello and Splinter celebrate Christmas together, an attempt at normalcy after a year of trauma.

Generic Christmas music filled the living area of the lair as Don put the finishing touches on their tree, a Netflix loop of a crackling fireplace occupying the television nearby.Splinter had been readying some tea and sweets for the impending arrival of Michelangelo, in spite of Donatello’s objections, and had prepared some additional places for Leonardo and Raphael in the event of their arrival.April and Casey had decided to give the boys their space and jet off to Florida for the holidays, swapping New York snow for Disney World and warm beaches.The lair looked decently festive for a change, compared to their usually-reserved holiday celebrations, but neither Splinter or Donatello were complaining about the upbeat mood.

“I’m here!”Michelangelo called from the entryway, the sound of boots on stone creating a soft echo in the open space.Don peered over to see his sibling hanging up a heavy winter jacket, Mikey still insisting on clothing over nudity.He shook out his orange and grey hoodie and brushed off his pants of the remaining snow and ice, the baggy clothes making him seem as solidly thick as Raphael to a casual glance.“Anyone home?”

“Yeah, we’re in the living room!”Don called from the top of his ladder, still securing the star to the top of the tree.“Master Splinter is just making some snacks.”The old rat sat down a tray of tea and biscuits on the living room table, Michelangelo slowly meandering around the furniture to embrace his Father with a hearty hug.

“It’s been too long, Father.I’m sorry I’ve not come back to visit sooner.”The turtle squeezed, Splinter rubbing his son’s shell and returning the embrace with a sigh of contentment.“Missed me?”

“Every day, Michelangelo.”The two separated, Splinter holding on to Michelangelo’s arms as he got a good look at his son.“Now that I can see your condition for myself, it is understandable why you might wish to hide it.”The turtle frowned slightly.“But you will always be my son, no matter what you look like, Michelangelo.Appearances change, but our family is built on a much stronger bond than mere physical appearance.”The wise rat smiled, Michelangelo feeling a little more at ease.He didn’t know what Donatello had shared with their Father, but judging by his reaction, Splinter wasn’t completely aware of the extent of Michelangelo’s alterations.The turtle gave his Dad another hug before breaking off entirely, teasingDonatello atop the ladder.

“How pissed would you be if I gave that a shake right now?”Michelangelo smirked, Don pelting his sibling with a tennis ball he’d tucked in his belt for just such a jab.The ball hit Mike square on the forehead, the turtle chuckling.“I had that coming.”

“Damn right you did. Now let me finish up, and I’ll come right down.This thing was a lot easier to decorate as a family.”Donatello sniped, Michelangelo’s grin remaining steadfast.His eyes wandered down Don’s shell and toward his hips, mind conjuring up some lustful images of his brother sprawled out on the bed, Michelangelo-

“Michelangelo?”Splinter queried, snapping the terrapin to reality.“Would you like some tea?”

“Sure!”The two of them sat on the sofa while Don fussed with the tree and star, coiling a branch around its base to keep it in place, only for the entire thing to tip over sadly.Offered a cup of hot tea by his Father, Mikey sipped gently at it and savored the taste.“Delicious, Sensei.”

“I’m glad you approve, but I’m not sharing my recipe.” The old rat smiled coyly, sipping from his own cup.“Consider it motivation for you to visit more often.”Michelangelo couldn’t argue there, the tea was definitely sublime bait to get him to return for more frequent visits.He finished his cup and refilled it from the teapot, Splinter chuckling a bit.“Have a biscuit.I made your favorite.”Michelangelo froze, glancing up at Donatello for guidance.The genius must not have heard the remark, however, leaving Mikey alone to break the news.

“Uh, well…”. Michelangelo stammered.“I normally would, Sensei, but I can’t.”Mike pinched his rubbery skin, making it squeak.“No solid food, I’m afraid.Side-effect.”Splinter looked him over for a moment, then nodded.“Sorry.”

“For what, my son?These things…happen, I suppose.”Splinter took a bite of said treat himself, enjoying the crunch and sugar.“Though your situation is most unorthodox.”

“You can say that again.” Michelangelo laughed nervously, feeling a bit of lube pool in his mouth.He washed it down with some tea and tried to avoid looking up at Don while his sibling was on the ladder.“So, how have you been holding up while I’ve been gone?Donnie taking care of ya?”

Splinter hummed in thought, stroking his chin.“I have been well enough, I suppose. It is still strange, not hearing my sons nearby.”The rat leaned against Michelangelo slightly.“I await the day my family has been returned to me.On that day, we shall celebrate.”

“With a pizza?” Michelangelo suggested, Splinter laughing and giving a nod.

“Of course.”

“AH-HAH!”Donatello shouted from the top of the ladder, pulling a throwing knife from his belt and sliding it between the star and the brick wall.“Mister Perfect was just using a kunai to tie the star to the wall.”Splinter stroked his chin and laughed some more, Donatello making his way back down the ladder.

“I was wondering if he’d found my secret…”. Splinter mused aloud, Michelangelo distracting his gaze by repeatedly counting the cookies on the tray and swallowing the lube pooling in his mouth.Don slowly returned to Earth and folded the ladder away, content with his work on the festive tree.“Michelangelo, do you intend to stay the night with us?Your old room is just as you left it.”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be worth crashing here rather than deal with this storm.We’re expecting a foot of snow tonight.”Michelangelo finished his second cup of tea and sat it down, shifting slightly on the couch to get comfortable.“The guys will be fine without me for a night.”

“Donatello tells me you live with former enemies of ours.” Splinter confronted them, prying for information.“I assume you are keeping them in line?”Michelangelo waffled his hand in the air with an ‘Eeeeeh’, Donatello folding his arms.

“They rob ATMs, Dad.”Splinter smacked the back of Michelangelo’s head, readying for a lecture.“No, Sensei, not Mikey.Just Bebop, Rocksteady, and Mondo.”

“Look, everyone needs money, and nobody is hiring mutants without Social Security Numbers for anything other than crime.”Michelangelo defended them.“They’re not robbing _people_ , they’re hitting _businesses_.Big businesses, the kind who literally lose nothing when they’re robbed like that.And they always do it away from civilians.No witnesses, no scaring people, just a quick smash-and-grab.”

“I raised you better, Michelangelo.”Splinter scowled, Donatello smirking over at Mikey.

“Yes, you did, which is why I don’t participate.I help out as the building super, instead.”Michelangelo smirked back at Don, the turtle’s high horse deflating slightly.“The real world isn’t a pretty place, but I still do what I can to help.Even if that means unclogging sinks and schlepping appliances.”Splinter’s scowl faded, replaced with a relieved smile.“I’ve had a lot of time to think and grow.I’m not the same son who left all those months ago, and didn’t return.That Michelangelo is gone.”His smirk faded into a smile, grabbing one of Splinter’s hands and giving it a squeeze.“But I’m still here.”

“Yes, you are.I’m sorry, Michelangelo, I should not have judged.”Splinter walked back his reaction with his typical grace, Don looking a little defeated at being unable to get Mikey in trouble.The two were still siblings, and siblings still fought, but they both knew Don was just looking out for his little brother.Don, with his shapely curves, those long legs, his lanky build and perfect-

“BATHROOM.”Michelangelo jumped up suddenly, feeling flushed with heat.“I, uh, I’ll just be right back.Sorry, lunch wasn’t sitting well.”He scooted off towards the restroom and locked the door behind him, practically peeling out of his clothes as soon as he had privacy.Lube dripped freely from his chin as he stared back at himself in the mirror, an idle hand fingering the plug stuffed in his rear.He moved to the shower drain before pulling it out with a wet ‘plop’, a buildup of lube flowing freely and into the drain beneath him.He hadn’t told Don yet, but his sex drive had only increased over time, as had the production of the lube in his mouth and rear.He couldn’t sleep unless he was filled by the plug, and had started keeping a spit jar at home for when he was in heat.He felt pathetic as he fucked himself with the anal plug once he’d emptied out of liquid, suppressing a moan as he repeatedly stretched himself open around it.His free hand dipped fingers down his throat and began thrusting in and out there as well, trying to fill every orifice and get to his ‘plateau’ as soon as possible so that he could rejoin his family.

While Michelangelo was busying himself in the bathroom, Donatello was discussing Leo’s absence with Splinter.They’d not heard from the leader in over a week, the last letter mentioning a snow storm approaching them in a few days’ time.It was the same cycle that dumped half a foot on the city a few days ago, but they had heard upstate New York could see two to four feet of powder in just over two days.They didn’t know where Leo had setup shelter, but there was still concern about such a heavy winter affecting their similarly-compromised brother.“I looked at Google Earth, and there’s not a lot of usable shelter in the area.Mainly old houses and the like.”

“I’m sure Leonardo will be fine.”Splinter reassured him, sipping gingerly at his tea.“I suspect we’ll see him before winter ends.”

“You’ll see me a lot sooner than that.” Leo called from the foyer, dropping a heavy duffel bag of survival gear along with his wintering clothes.Don practically bounded over the couch to race toward him, Splinter hiding a knowing smile as the two turtles shared a long-overdue embrace.“It’s good to see you again, Don.”

Donatello held back tears of joy as he embraced their older brother, breaking it only to give Leo a once-over.“Likewise!You’re looking pretty good, all told.”Leonardo chuckled and spun Don back towards the living room, eager to see Master Splinter again after so long apart.“Though last time I saw you, well, you couldn’t see. Or hear.”Leonardo nodded as Don traced fingers along the perfect seam of rubber and flesh that ran along his head, Leo’s beak covered in black while his scalp, eyes, and the back of his head remained untouched and green.“How’d you get that thing off?”

“Karai, believe it or not.”Don stumbled a bit while Leonardo kept walking.“Yeah, out of nowhere.Just showed up, and cut it off my head.”

“Seriously? You didn’t mention that in your letters.”Leonardo stepped to Splinter’s side and bowed at the waist, his father gently rubbing Leo’s bare scalp and smiling.

“It’s good to see you again, my son.”The old rat appraised him, eyes searching for weakness or wounds, but finding neither.“I see you are still as sharp as ever.”

“Hai, Sensei.”Leo replied, raising up once Splinter removed his hand.“I train every day without fail.My condition is no excuse for weakness.”Splinter nodded, Donatello already fearing a return to daily katas with Leo home.He was not looking forward to showing his rustiness in combat the leader, that’s for sure.

Splinter rubbed tenderly at Leo’s hip.“While I am glad you have continued your training, my son, it is quite alright to take time off and deal with other issues.”The rat was clearly referring to Leo’s rubbery skin, concerned about its effects on his sons.“But now is the time for neither.It is time for celebration.”A few pats signaled for Leo to relax and unwind, Splinter standing up to grab another cup and plate for his eldest son.“Relax. Let your Father take care of his sons tonight.”As Leonardo sat down on the couch with a relaxed sigh, Donatello leaned over the back to whisper while Splinter was out of earshot.

“Doctor Don has some questions for you.”Leonardo chuckled, reaching back to gently scratch under Don’s chin.

“Fire away.”

“Can you eat solid foods?”Leonardo shook his head.

“No. Liquids only, for some reason. I also don’t eat nearly as much as I used to.”Don kept mental notes, comparing Leo’s responses to Michelangelo’s.

“Increased libido?”Leonardo paused at the question.“You know, se-“

“YES.” He hissed sharply.“Yes, increased libido.”

“Producing lubrication from anywhere?”Don pried, Leo’s blush faintly visible on his exposed cheeks.

“Y-yes. Orally and, uh…”

“Rectally, I’ll assume.”Leo nodded again.“Anything else?Weird symptoms, changing behaviors, new patterns…?”Leo thought on the question for a moment, chewing on his lower lip.He didn’t think much of it, since he’d left Slash behind when he started hiking towards the city, but there was something nagging him.

“Yeah. The weird stuff initially happened at night, at least at first. Then as I got closer to the city, it felt like someone kicked everything into overdrive.”Don was silent with thought, while Leo felt like he was trying to put together some weird puzzle that he lacked the pieces for.“The stronger it was, the less inclined I felt to turn back.If that makes sense.”Donatello had an idea, but the return of Michelangelo derailed his train of thought.

“LEO!”The younger turtle shouted, bounding over to the sofa like an over-eager dog and leaping into Leo’s arms.“Bro!You’re back home for Christmas too?”Leonardo chuckled and nodded, returning Michelangelo’s tight hug and churring happily at the affection.

“The house collapsed under the snowstorm.Slash found new shelter, but I decided to head home.”Leonardo shoved Mikey playfully over to his side of the sofa, the younger terrapin making a dramatic display of tumbling and sprawling as if he were thrown.“What’s with the clothes?You cold or something?”

“Nah!” Michelangelo pulled himself up and beamed happily.“Figured if I’m gonna have a new look, then why not go all the way?”Leonardo chuckled, as did Don.“You get used to them after a while!Feels nice, actually.Unlike Donnie, I can enjoy the winter air outside without freezing to death.”Michelangelo’s eyes traced along Leo’s youthful curves, unconsciously licking his lips at the alluring sight.“You’re looking good yourself.”

Leo’s blush returned, as Michelangelo’s tone wasn’t exactly platonic.“Thanks.I’ve been keeping up with my training while I was upstate.”A guttural churr came from Mike’s throat, Don and Leo feeling a bit uncomfortable at the attention.“So, what have you been up to?”

“He lives with Bebop and Rocksteady, and robs ATMs.”Don smirked, once again throwing Michelangelo under the bus.Leo was ready to replicate Splinter’s earlier smack, but Michelangelo was prepared to defend himself.

“Half-true!I live with them, but I don’t rob ATMs.Donnie is just jealous that I live in an apartment, not a sewer, and that I get to smoke weed.”Leo proceeded with the smack anyway, Donatello snickering as Mike pulled himself from one bus, only to throw himself under another of his own choosing.“What?!It calms me down, dude.Some of us aren’t super-elite-buddha meditators like yourself.”

“Maybe if you actually practiced meditation with me, you wouldn’t feel the need to consume cannabis.”Leo chided, Don inserting himself into their conversation as the house Doctor.

“Now now, Leo, everyone reacts to certain anxieties differently, and cannabis is as effective a treatment as meditation.”Michelangelo stuck his tongue out in victory, Don smacking him on the head with a grin.“As long as you don’t stink up the lair, that is.”

Mikey waved his hand dismissively, parroting back a “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” for good measure.As Splinter returned with tea for Leo, discussion shifted to the usual familial topics: Mikey’s video game habits, Don’s research, Leo’s latest adventure, and of course, Splinter’s soap operas.The four of them exchanged jokes, then presents: some airtight containers for Michelangelo, a new medical textbook for Don’s infirmary, and an impromptu gift of incense for Leo’s meditation sessions.Splinter’s gift was having three of his sons home safely, while Raphael’s gift was left in his hammock, waiting for his eventual return.

With festivities concluded, the four of them turned in for the night to their respective rooms, Michelangelo and Leonardo reacquainting themselves with old lives left behind: of swords unpolished, of comic books unread.While Don and Splinter slept soundly, Leo and Mike did not, both of them having a distinct feeling of unease about what lay ahead.


	15. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every child eventually tires of their toys, and the Triceraton Royalty are no different.

Tears stained his cheeks as Raphael trudged through the abandoned space station, fingers stuttering along a control panel as he slowly brought its core systems online.Blood and rubber dripped steadily from the thousands of cuts and wounds along his skin, smearing against the screen as he typed on its surface.He had been disposed of by the Emperor after a scant three years of service, every piece of gold, every gemstone, every molecule of precious metal ripped from his body by force.His rubber skin tried to keep up, to protect him from harm, but it was just too much, too quickly for even its advanced material to cope with.As fresh air began circulating the station and the lights came on, Raphael slumped to the floor and began to cry.Once that headset had been ripped from his body, it was a matter of months for the hypnotic programming to wear off and his old self to take control.Faced with the prospect of explaining the forced service of the terrapin to his royal court, the Emperor simply took what was his, and tossed out the garbage during a hyperspace jump.As blood and rubber pooled on the metal floor beneath him, Raphael began to feel cold, drowsy.“Can’t sleep.Don says that’s blood loss talkin’.Sleep now, and I won’t wake up.”He spoke to himself, the computer spewing information messages over the public address system in an older Triceraton dialect.

_Sectors Blue, Purple, Orange, Green, are compromised._

_Sector Red locked down._

_Life support systems at 100%._

_Power systems at 23%._

_Warning, solar panels damaged.Exo repairs requested._

Raphael chuckled.Of course Red was fine.Red was his lucky color, after all.He would die in Red Sector, in a pool of red blood, surrounded by red emergency lighting.“I’m sorry Donnie.”He croaked aloud, choking back sobs of agony.“I gotta take a nap.”

Dreams once familiar to him now seemed alien, as a field of flowers stretched around him in all directions.He knew them well, all part of that stupid programming he was forced to endure.He recognized the well-worn path to the spot where his Prince would propose to him, and he avoided it entirely.Instead, he set off in a brand new direction, heading South on a path not-yet-forged.His body felt weak, ragged, but lacked that black sheen or red wounds his real self reflected.He was simply his old, tired, younger self, a grumpy hothead who wanted nothing more than a cold beer, good company, and some hot pizza.He walked for hours, the sun setting and revealing a night sky he couldn’t comprehend.The stars were all wrong, the number of moons too many, and the cloudy swirl of the Milky Way masked by a rainbow of gasses and nebulae of whatever galaxy he was in now.The temperature felt cold, but not uncomfortably so, and the light of the moons illuminated the field before him.Raphael kept pace, venturing into the unknown reaches of his mind.

As night continued, he could see visages of his past, memories trapped in time.Of his first sparring session with Leo, back when they were kids, a flurry of messy kicks and punches the result of two angry tots fighting over Father’s attention.He chuckled at the absurdity of it, wishing he could remind himself to watch out for Leo’s upcoming right hook and avoid a black eye that Michelangelo would spend days poking at.There was a vision of his teenage self, going toe-to-toe with Foot Ninja alongside his brothers, flashes of steel and streaks of wood frozen in the moment like a statue.They all looked determined, fierce, yet inexperienced in pain and sorrow.That would change soon enough, of course, catching sight of himself crying over the farm’s bathtub, Leo soaking unconsciously inside after almost being killed by the Shredder himself.Looking back at it all, it was a harsh and unforgiving progression, constantly fraught with violence and anger, until that moment.That moment when Raphael felt his deepest pain, yet had nary a scratch on him.

Night eventually turned to day, and his visions became more upbeat.Pleasant memories of Leo leaning over his benchpress bar, Raphael smirking up at him as he was more focused on sneaking a peek at Leo’s ass than lifting his weights.Of finally triumphing over Michelangelo in a game of Street Fighter, using Ken’s spin kick invincibility frame to clip through Chun-Li’s fireball and land the finishing blow.Of he and Donnie being caked in grease and oils, nestled together under the Battle Shell after its oil pain had a slow leak that turned into an explosive burst when he removed the gasket, the two of them laughing at their terrible luck.He missed his brothers so much, and felt cheated that after all of those trials, all of those sacrifices, he still didn’t have enough credit with the universe to buy himself a quiet, peaceful life with his family.

“About time you woke up from that nightmare.”Leonardo smirked, his arms folded over his chest.That big, smug bastard still had to ruin his reminiscing.“I was starting to get worried.”

“Yeah, well, you know me.Never been one to root around in my own head much.”Raphael scoffed, giving the vision a playful shove and marching onward.His elder brother appeared again further down the field, yet something seemed off about him.“You my imagination, coming to give myself grief over failing to protect ya’s?”

“Nah.You’ve always been good about beating yourself up all on your own.I don’t need to help there.”That smug grin again.Raphael hated it, yet missed it for so long.He half-heartedly punched the vision’s face, Leo disappearing into a cloud of smoke and reforming further away.“Not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“Seriously?My own imagination won’t leave me alone?”He scoffed incredulously, throwing up his hands in defeat.“Fine!What’d ya want?”

“I want you to look at me, you dope.Focus hard, and look at me.”Raphael rolled his eyes, Leo’s metaphysical bullshit bleeding over into his subconscious.He never put much stock in the idea that Leo and Master Splinter could communicate through their dreams or meditations, mainly seeing the exercise as a chance to practice silent naps.“Well?You going to keep doubting this, or are you going to look at me?”Leo’s arms flourished and motioned down his own body, drawing Raphael’s gaze in.Only now did Raph see a Leo he’d never known, one covered much like himself in black rubber, except for his head.It looked like a catsuit, yet was clearly the same material Raphael found himself in at present.A few blinks saw Raph’s own ethereal form reflect his current one, ink-black and covered in wounds and scars from the recent trauma.“You look like hell.Are you okay?”

Raphael chuckled nervously.“Probably not.I definitely shouldn’t be asleep right now.”He looked over his hands, seeing the bloody scars from the gold thread being ripped from his skin.“Lots of blood loss.”He looked up at Leo, smiling weakly.“You, uh, you look good.”Leo frowned, flowers parting as his brother approached him, arms outstretched.He felt Leo’s fingers touch his cheeks and face, thumbs wiping away his tears as those blue eyes stared deep into him.“Yer not my imagination, are ya?”

“No.I’m sorry.”Raphael choked back a sob, shaking in Leo’s grasp.“Come here.”Raphael didn’t need to be told twice, wrapping his arms around his brother’s shell and squeezing tight, finally letting out a good cry.“It’s alright, Raph.I’m here.”

“I’m scared.”Raphael quivered, his hands curling into fists to stop himself from shaking.“I don’t know where I am.I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.I don’t even know how long I’ve been gone.”The field began closing in around them both as Raph’s tranquility turned to panic, daylight fading.Leo rubbed tenderly at his brother’s shell, soothing his frightened brother.“I wanna go home.”

“We want you home, Raph.So very, very bad.”Leo cooed, pushing Raph back enough to look at his brother’s face.“But our time here is limited.”The field had all but faded away, pitch black surrounding them like a sphere.“You’re going to wake up soon.”

Raphael shook, scared.“What do I do?”His voice was hoarse, terror on his tongue.“Tell me what to do, Leo.As my leader, give me an order, and I promise I’ll do it.”Leonardo smiled softly, the vision beginning to flake away as Raphael’s dream state faded.

“Survive.”Leo pressed his lips firmly to Raphael’s.

Raphael jolted awake, white lights blinding him momentarily as his eyes shot open.The alarms and flashing lamps of before had gone, replaced with a gentle din of machinery circulating air and supporting the functioning station.He mentally began a checklist of key bodily functions, starting by taking a deep breath of stale, recycled air and letting out a reflex cough.He could feel his chest expand and swell as he sucked in air, which in turn painfully tugged at the scar tissue from his wounds.Next was a wiggling of his fingers and toes, then a rotation of his head and neck, and finally sitting upright.His whole body still ached, but he was genuinely shocked that he even survived such abuse in the first place.For all his loathing of his outward appearance, the rubber material that covered him inside and out was a godsend in its own right.

He stood up off the floor and looked around the control room, consoles lit up with interfaces and text, flashing lights indicating errors throughout the station.The main panel was still covered in his dried blood, as was the floor beneath him, though he figured that would be easy enough to clean up later.As he took a tour around the room and checked each console, a singular goal remained fixed in his mind’s eye: Survive, at all costs.


	16. Holes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelangelo has been missing for weeks, but it's where they find him that worries Leo...

Michelangelo had been missing for weeks.“I turned him down for sex, and he literally begged me to help him out.”Mondo confessed, picking anxiously at the scales on his fingers.“I’d never seen him that desperate before.”Leonardo heard out the gecko’s concerns, swallowing a lump of lube and trying to suppress his own urges.Donatello had long suspected their suits were doing some sort of chemical manufacturing to increase certain drives or desires, but still lacked concrete proof.After all, why else would they produce lubricant near-constantly from their two major orifices?“H-hey, uhm…what about you?”Leo blinked, setting aside his personal questions to focus on the task at hand.

“What about me?”

“You look like Mike did a few months back.He was swallowing a lot, and seemed insatiable.”Mondo observed, Bebop nodding in agreement.Leonardo wanted to deflect, but they were right: ever since his return to New York, he’d been increasingly aroused and pent up, but still several months’ behind Michelangelo’s own progression.Even so, the sharp ramping up of his brother’s libido was cause for concern regarding his own.“You been getting laid?”

Leonardo shook his head.“No. I try to abstain, to fight whatever this skin is doing to me.”He paused, reflecting on his tone.“But I’ve been suppressing such urges my entire life.It’s unfair to expect the same of Michelangelo.”Awkward silence stretched between the three of them, broken only by a series of chirps from Bebop’s phone.The boar excused himself to handle the text message, leaving Leo and Mondo to hash things out alone.“You care deeply for him, don’t you?”The gecko blushed and rubbed the back of his head, averting his gaze from Leo’s.

“He’s just a cool bro is all.Down to earth, impulsive, fun.”Mondo deflected the question.“I just worry, is all.You guys haven’t been the same since those stupid games.Mike seems to be handling it the worst.”

“Actually…”. Leonardo started, a smile on his face.“I’ve been admiring how he’s handled the changes.I see myself in the mirror, and cannot wait to get out of this mess, but Michelangelo?He’s used it as a springboard, a reset button of sorts.”Mondo perked up, listening attentively.“I may not agree with all of his changes, but if he is happy, then I am happy for him.”He watched the gecko chew on this words for a moment or two, trying to get his own thoughts in order.“What’s on your mind, Mondo?”

“Nothing.”Mondo lied, then backtracked.“I just…I worry that I’ve gotten to know two different Mikesters.Both are cute, handsome, sweet, intelligent…”. Leonardo nodded.“But I don’t know which one I like more.Or how we’ll get along once he’s back to normal.”Leonardo was about to respond, until Bebop burst back into the room.

“Rocks found Michelangelo.”

While Bebop and Mondo got ready to head out, Leonardo was already bouncing across rooftops to the appointed address.He naturally arrived first, with Rocksteady smoking a cigar in the alleyway below.Bass rattled the old brick of the warehouse as music filtered from its many holes and openings, a gathered crowd of humans in leather and rubber attire lining the front of the nightclub.Leo stayed in the shadows, whispering over to Rocksteady to get his attention.“Is Michelangelo inside?”The rhino nodded, taking a long drag on his cigar.

“Tortle is _fast_.” The rhino quipped, rolling his jaw.“But yees, he iz inside.”Rocksteady turned toward the shadow where Leo clung to, motioning him into the light.“You are among friends, tortle. Come into ze light, for once.”Leo hesitantly stepped forward, only for the rear entry door to slam open, a scraggly human catapulting out into the alley.Rocksteady snarled as the gangly male picked himself up, the rhino cracking his knuckles.“We told you not to return, Alexei.”

“Woah, woah, calm down there freak show.”The human pleaded, reaching for something in his back pocket.Leo watched the scene unfold as the man pulled a cell phone from his denim jeans, the flash going off and illuminating the alley for an instant.“One wrong move, and you’re New York’s hottest new celebrity.”Rocksteady seemingly froze, though a flick of his fingers seemed to indicate for Leo to intervene.The turtle slid silently along the walls to get behind the human, having left his swords at home in favor of a small combat knife from his time in the mountains with Slash, just in case they ran into trouble.With a quick movement, the knife was pressed to the human’s throat, while Leo grabbed the cell phone with his free hand.

“Alex, was it?”Leonardo snarled.“Be a dear, and delete that photo from your library for me?”He pressed the knife tighter to get his point across, Rocksteady chuckling as the human drenched his pants with fear.Leonardo snatched the phone as soon as it was unlocked, swiping along the interface to delete the photo - plus its cloud backup, and emptying the recycling bin and deleted items folders to make sure it’s gone.“Do you have access to a computer or tablet at home, kid?”Alex shook his head as much as the knife allowed.“Are you lying to me?”

“N-no!I swear!Just my phone” The kid squeaked, Leonardo smashing the phone against the opposite wall and shoving the human forward.Alex took off like a frightened animal, Rocksteady laughing heartily at the display of anger from Leonardo.

“I like tortle’s approach!”The rhino clapped, tossing the stub of his cigar to the ground and smashing it out with his boot.“Though manager may not approve.”Leo sheathed his blade against his thigh and glared angrily, Rocksteady pumping his hands to try and calm him down.“I am not your enemy, tortle.”

“You told Bebop my brother was in here?”Leonardo got straight to the point, Rocksteady nodding.“Show me, then.”

“Not that simple.”Leo’s glare intensified.“And not my fault!Your _brat_ got into problem on own.”

“What do you mean?I thought you said he was safe.”

“Oh, fuck me.He’s _here_?!” Mondo remarked with no small hint of exasperation, Bebop accompanying him down the alleyway.“Rocks, how did you not know about this sooner?!”

Rocksteady shrugged.“You know rules: no ask questions.”Leonardo looked increasingly confused, Bebop grabbing his shoulders firmly and trying to pull him back.

“Here, let Mondo and Rocks go get your brother.”Bebop tried to convince Leo to exercise restraint, though that clearly wasn’t happening.The turtle was cold in demeanor and eager to get moving, showing a streak of stubbornness usually reserved for Raphael.“Trust me, this isn’t something you wanna see.”Bebop released his grip as he felt the point of Leo’s blade against his thigh, taking a step backwards.“Alright, fine.Rocks and I will stay here.Mondo?”

“Shit, why me?”The gecko whined aloud, Bebop unable to get a word in before Leo started shoving him toward the alley door and into the club.Thick smoke and heavy music filled their ears as they slipped inside, and hearing anything Mondo said was nigh impossible.Partygoers conversed in the narrow halls and smoked all manner of products, with a few dressed in rubbery outfits that looked very similar to Leo’s own, albeit far less form-fitting.The gecko led him through the crowds toward the restrooms and practically threw him inside, eyes going wide at two lines waiting to access very specific stalls.With the door to the mens room closed, it was finally possible to talk - and to hear the grunts, groans, and growls of men having sex.“Fuck, we’re gonna have to wait until morning.”

“Why? Where’s Mike?”Leo hissed, swallowing another glob of lube down his throat.The scent of drugs, musk, and sex were starting to get to him, and despite his growing need for relief, he would rather just get his brother and get the fuck out of here.Mondo hitched a thumb toward the empty stall, a heavy padlock on its exterior.

“In there, but he’s fine.”Leo craned his head around to try and get a peek into the stall, though it was fortified more like a cell than a toilet.He watched as one of the adjacent stalls opened up and a large brute exited, zipping up his jeans with a content sigh.

“‘Eyyy, if it ain’t lizard bitch.”Mondo winced at the title, the man’s hands settling on the gecko’s shoulders and squeezing uncomfortably tight.“What’s the matter?Feelin’ bad about your replacement?”Leo raised a brow at the insinuation, Mondo clearly looking uncomfortable.“Or perhaps you brought a friend to join in?”The man looked at Leo, his eyes filled with carnal lust and an unquenchable thirst for power.“Cell two has been empty for a few weeks now, so we could definitely-“

“We’re not here to suck dick, Damien.”The human spun Mondo around and backhanded the gecko to the floor, his demeanor suddenly cold and detached.Leo stood quietly and watched, unsure of how to react without causing a ruckus.Mondo pulled himself up to his knees and bowed his head in front of the man’s crotch, keeping his gaze to the floor.“We are not here for service, Lord Damien.”The human smirked, staring down Leo and appraising him like meat.

“And what if I ordered you to, hmm?Got enough credit built up to turn down an order?”Mondo’s head was shoved into the man’s crotch before he could answer, this ‘Damien’ person finally addressing Leo directly.“What about you?Slave or Sir?”The man grinned even wider as he saw Leo’s smoothed crotch, as well as the knife holster clearly strapped to his thigh.“Clearly a slave, given that getup of yours.And it looks like a rule breaker, too…”. Damien shoved Mondo aside and strode over to Leo, grabbing the turtle by the throat and slamming him to the wall with a single arm, feeling the buckles of his knife holster pop free and the weapon clatter to the floor.“Yeah, you look just like that slave in Cell One, the one who just sucked my cock like a fucking _professional_.”Leo took the abuse without a word, even as Mondo tried to acquire the knife.Damien slammed his boot down on the gecko’s head with a sharp yelp, the remaining crowd not even budging at the assault taking place inches away from them.“Well well, looks like I got two volunteers for the hole.We haven’t had a full house in a while…”

Leo managed to croak out a response to his assailant, pinned weakly against the wall.“You have the keys?”

“Course I do, slave.All VIPs like myself have a set, so we can lock up little sluts like yourselves.”Damien snickered, grinding his boot against Mondo’s head and making the gecko cry out in pain.As the human dangled the keys in the air for effect, Leo dropped his act and lashed out.He grabbed Damien’s arm and kicked away from the wall, sending the human onto his back with a growl.Wasting no time, Leo gouged the man’s eyes with his thumbs and slammed his head to the tile floor until he stopped moving, but not enough to kill such a brute outright.He grabbed the keys from the limp hand and stood up, spitting a glob of lube onto Damien’s face before turning to the assembled crowd.

“Leave.”A few murmurs questioned the turtle’s intentions.“NOW!”The confusion shifted to fear, the men piling out of the bathroom en masse and out to the hallway.Leo locked the door behind them and turned to Mondo, the gecko cradling his bloodied scalp on the floor.“You okay?”

“F-fuck you.”Mondo whimpered.“You used me as b-b-b-bait.”Leo offered the gecko a hand, who in turn slapped it away.“Probably got me b-banned too.”A human exited one of the stalls and froze, glancing at the bruised and bloodied mutants, as well as the unconscious human on the floor, before bolting.Leo stepped over Mondo and began working on the padlock, the heavy device clunking open with a few turns of the correct key.

“I’ll apologize later.For now, let’s…”. Leo trailed off as he swung open the cell door, a pungent aroma of semen and piss hitting him like a brick wall.Michelangelo was shackled between the walls of the stall, mouth pressed to one hole while his ass was secured against the other, his eyes glazed over as lube dripped freely from his orifices.As light filtered into the dark cell and disturbed Michelangelo’s focus, Leo could see stains of fluid against Mike’s rubbery skin and the tile floor, and a mixture of arousal and disgust swelled in his own chest.“M-mike…?”The turtle slowly turned his head to the voice, the collar secured round his neck keeping him glued to the glory hole.His normally bright, blue eyes were milky white with just a trace of blue left behind, the gaze vacant, as if his brother wasn’t all there.Lube and semen were still pooled in his mouth as he stared blankly at Leo, then swallowed the recent load with a satisfied churr, eyeballing his brother with lust.

“Fill me.”Michelangelo licked his lips, Leo recoiling slightly.The turtle picked up on the behavior as well as Leo’s current state of lacking equipment, then licked his teeth.“Mmm. Or join me?”Leonardo wanted to say yes, he wanted to join Michelangelo so bad right now, but…no, no, that is **not** why he is here.Michelangelo moaned as cock filled his ass, bouncing back against the stall wall.“Fill me!”His brother’s begging rattled his ears, lust swelling in Leo’s chest and loins.He needed to be filled.He should be in there too, just like Michelangelo.That’s what’s right, that’s what he’s made for.

Mondo stood up, rubbing his skull and dabbing the blood away with his shirt.He watched as Leonardo fell back onto his rump and his eyes began to glaze over, a similar murmur escaping from the turtle’s lips.“Oh, fuck…”.He staggered over and slowly closed the cell door on Michelangelo, before giving Leo a few slaps on his face.“Snap out of it, asshole, we need to go.”The third slap was stopped by Leo with a lightning-fast grab, his brown eyes coming into focus again.“Go get Rocksteady.We’re going home.”Leo didn’t answer at first, Mondo repeating the order.“Go get Bebop and Rocksteady.I can’t drag Mike out of here alone, and you clearly aren’t up for this shit.Now go already, and try not to kill anyone on the way out.”He yanked the turtle up and gave him a shove toward the door, watching a frightened Leonardo scurry out and down the hall toward the exit.Alone with the remaining ‘customer’ and an occupied Michelangelo, Mondo ventured a peek into the cell and at his ex-boyfriend.Michelangelo flashed his slutty grin at the gecko, licking his lips.

“Fill me?”Mondo slammed the door shut, wiping away his tears and waiting for Rocks and Bebop to come get him.His Michelangelo was long gone, yet again.


	17. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello tries to figure out what is driving his siblings insane with lust.

Donatello pulled the plunger back on the syringe, taking a sample of Michelangelo’s blood for study.Their sibling had been bound tight in a straitjacket for his own protection, given that he tried to service any cock he could find, and a gag and spreader bar helped deal with his unique ailments by focusing their output over a floor drain.As Don went to wipe the puncture site clean, the suit closed over it and went to work mending Michelangelo’s body.“Well at least that’ll help with cleanup…”. Satisfied with the blood draw, Don headed for the door.“You coming, Leo?”Leonardo was crouched in a corner, studying Michelangelo with concern.His brother’s normally-blue eyes were gone by now, instead milky white and glossy, reflecting the absence of his mind in lieu of focusing on a singular purpose: sexual servitude.Even now, he could feel the tickle of such thoughts at the back of his mind as well, calling for him to join his brother in their only true purpose in life.“Leo?”

“That’s going to be me next, isn’t it?”Leo croaked anxiously, shaking a bit.“It’s probably already happened to Raph, too.I’m the last one.”Dark thoughts surged across his mind, of how easy it would be to just give in, to satisfy his carnal urges by pleasing other men.Donatello couldn’t respond truthfully to Leo’s question, because he knew that his brother was right. Without a cure, without a way to stop whatever was brainwashing Michelangelo, then Leonardo was definitely next.

“Let’s go. That’s not you right now, so try not to worry about it. Let’s just do what we can.”He placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder, giving him a tug.“Come on.”Leonardo stood, Michelangelo trying to shuffle towards them both on his knees.Donatello barred the heavy door behind them, part of the old basement they’d refurbished into a safe house for biohazard incidents like this.“Go lie down. Meditate a bit. I’ll do some research.”Leo complied, his usual thoughts of leadership replaced with quiet subservience to anyone unaffected by this substance, including Donatello.As Leo sprawled out on the couch to nap, Don was busy running tests on the blood samples he had from Michelangelo, as well as a sample of the substance Karai had dropped off as part of her continued research into the makers of these suits.As the blood tests ran, he turned his attention to the jar of rubber sitting on his desk.

Karai wasn’t someone he normally trusted, but with his family out of commission, he had little choice in the matter.Thankfully, at least, her contributions to his research were genuine and authentic: this was the same organic compound covering Leo and Michelangelo, that much was for certain.He had divided the sample up into two containers to speed things along, leaving one in the care of Leatherhead, and the second here at his biohazard lab.He dipped a dropper into the substance and pulled out a measure of rubber, depositing a drop onto an inorganic glass slide and setting it under the microscope for examination.The substance seemed static, unmoving, and didn’t appear to be replicating under the light of the instrument, but its nature was still clearly organic.Donatello added a drop of Michelangelo’s blood to the rubber next, and observed as it began merging the substances together, combining into a new, unfamiliar substance with the properties of blood, but supplemented by the organic rubber.It was fascinated to watch, even if he didn’t know what exactly it was doing to the blood sample.

By sheer chance, he was pulling away from the lens as the centrifuge beeped, and caught a glimpse of the substance actually bubbling.“That’s new…”. Donatello made a note of the reaction and circumstances, then set the blood samples into testing apparatuses.Everything was automated and wireless, meaning Don could set and forget, and focus on the task at hand.He shifted to the task figuring out what was causing Michelangelo’s change in behavior, and he didn’t have to wait long for a clue.Blood test results began populating Michelangelo’s medical records, and two numbers in particular made Don shudder.“Holy shit!”

“What?” Leo sat up on the sofa, looking over at Don.“What’s wrong?”

“Michelangelo’s test results are coming in, and I may know what’s causing his behavior.Come here for a second.”Leo did as ordered, standing by Don’s desk as the genius began gathering a fresh syringe and an alcohol pad.He swabbed Leo’s upper arm until it was gleaming clean, then opened the syringe.“This is for science.”Leo couldn’t respond before Donatello pressed his lips to Leo’s own, his tongue rashly probing inside the rubber orifice as Leonardo moaned and melted against Donatello, lust and arousal starting to cloud his mind.Donatello held the kiss for a minute before breaking off and spitting the lube out onto the floor, then jabbed Leo with the syringe and did a hasty blood draw.“Sorry, I need accurate data.”

“N-no problem Sir…”. Leo murmured before catching himself, blush flashing hotly over his cheeks at the impulse response.Donatello seemed to pay it no mind, putting Leo’s blood sample into the same process as Michelangelo’s and starting the machines.“W-what was that all about?!”Leonardo snapped as he suppressed those uncouth thoughts into the back of his mind, still flustered and shifting anxiously on his feet.“That’s not funny, Don.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I needed good data.Here, take a look at Mikey’s charts.”Donatello spun a monitor around for Leo to look at, though everything seemed greek to him.

“I have no idea what this means, Don.Explain it to me?”Don nodded and moved the cursor over several lines, expanding them to historical values to aide in explanation.

“Okay, so here are the values for Michelangelo’s testosterone, oxytocin, and vasopressin levels.See those numbers?”Leonardo nodded as Donatello pointed them out, but still didn’t know what those things were, or why Don was so excited over their numbers.“So testosterone is the hormone that defines are masculine sexual characteristics.Think strong muscles, chiseled jaws, and thick, erm…genitals.”Don tried to avoid slang terms or explicit terms as much as possible, a meager attempt to keep Leo focused on the science, and not the sex.“Right.Long story short, more testosterone means more masculine features, and higher sex drive.Then you have oxytocin and vasopressin.Vasopressin levels are high when you’re aroused, and oxytocin is high when you climax.”Leo pinched the bridge of his beak and rubbed firmly there, struggling to focus.

“G-get to the point, Don.The less we talk about sex, the better.”Leo complained, taking a seat in Don’s chair.Donatello did a bit of clicking, then showing three sets of numbers for each of those substances.“Now what am I looking at?”

“The first column is the mean value for human males our age.The second column is what Michelangelo tested at when he was around eighteen, which is the age the suit has, for lack of a better word, ‘regressed’ him to as part of its repairs.”Both sets of numbers looked to be apart by a few hundred, which seemed weird, but Don assured him it was well within range.“That last column?That’s his current numbers.”

“They look smaller.”Leo squinted at the screen.Whereas Mike’s testosterone was labelled at ‘741pmol/L’ at 18, now it was at ‘81nmol/L’, whatever that meant.“Way, way smaller.”

“They’re not.They’re so huge, the software moved up from picomole to nanomole.There’s one thousand picomoles in a nanomole.”Leonardo nodded, then went equally wide-eyed as he did the math.“Exactly.Michelangelo’s testosterone levels are over a thousand percent higher than the maximum in humans.Same with vasopressin and oxytocin.”

“So what does that mean, exactly? Is he being poisoned?”

“Not exactly.These things aren’t toxic, necessarily, and it looks like the suits are handling all the negative side-effects of surplus hormones in the bloodstream.But if I were to hazard a guess?It’s a brainwashing feedback loop.”Leo felt nauseas at the thought of being mind controlled by the suit glued to his skin, but Don continued on with his explanations.“It looks like the suit just keeps increasing production.It pumps you full of testosterone over time, but keeps artificially producing vasopressin to get you aroused for sex, then floods your brain with oxytocin when you ‘climax’.And it repeats over and over, until the amounts of these molecules are so high, that, well…”

“You end up like Mikey.”Leo murmured.“Or me.”As if on cue, a beep of the machines alerted Don to Leo’s tests being completed.He hastily pulled up Leonardo’s chart and reviewed the results, chewing on his lower lip nervously.“Well?What does mine say?”

“Well, if we use Mikey as the benchmark for progression of the brainwashing process…”. Donatello bit down on his lip hard enough to draw a bit of blood, wiping it away with his hand.“You’re about sixty percent of his values right now.Given your progression, I’d say…”

“How long do I have left, Donatello?” Leonardo asked, bluntly, wanting a clear answer rather than wishy-washy hopeful explanations.“How long until I’m little more than a sex crazed slave like Michelangelo?”

Don wasn’t one to mince words in situations like this.He reviewed the data once more, then sighed.“About six months.”


	18. Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael makes the best of a bad situation.

The airlock doors hissed as pressure equalized on either side, the heavy metal alloy sliding apart and letting Raphael through.He peeled off the gloves, boots, and respirator once it was safe to do so, then took a breath of recycled, albeit fresh air.Lifting his head, he looked directly at the camera facing the airlock.“M’ork la’ktchel qu tor edlell?”The dialect was old Triceraton, a mish-mash of guttural syllables and throat rolls typically only spoken by Royalty anymore.He was thankful that his memories of learning it were left intact after the removal procedures, as it made interacting with the station much easier.

_With recent repairs, power levels are at 78% and climbing.Backup batteries are charging._

Raphael smiled.Turns out welding and electrical work in space wasn’t much different from welding on Earth.He set off down the corridor toward the bridge, wanting to tick another item off the repair list as well as see where the supply shuttle was along its route.After a few weeks of basic repair work, Raphael had gotten profoundly lucky in the form of a rebel ship inspecting his recently reactivated space station.Simply activating the video feed was enough to convince the incoming raiding party of his allegiance, a network of scar lines over his slave suit still visible long after the wounds had healed.As he turned into the bridge proper, a series of green screens relieved any concerns he had about a cascading failure from his recent work. _< What is the status of shuttle gamma?>_. The local star system displayed on the central hologram, the shuttle’s transponder highlighted with speed, cargo, and lifeform information.

_Shuttle Gamma is currently returning via an unapproved transit route.Estimated time to docking is currently three galactic standard hours._

Raphael smiled.They were making excellent time, and the material on board should help finish the major structural repairs to Sectors Blue and Green. _< And our communications systems?Is faster-than-light signal transmission possible yet?>_

_Negative.Power levels must be at 90%, or backup batteries must be fully charged before utilization of FTL signaling._ Raph grumbled.The star charts on the station were just recent enough to have Earth’s coordinates included, which meant all he needed to do was get a message back to Don.He was profoundly lucky, but luck didn’t satisfy his impatient desire to get home. _Attention: nanite control key retrieved for Commander Raphael._ Raphael blinked.

_< Say again?>_

_Nanite control key retrieved for Commander Raphael.Biosupport suit may now be modified at user discretion._ Raphael’s heart jumped in his chest. _Adding control unit to Commander Raphael’s non-dominant arm._ Raphael’s left forearm glowed blue before a hologram hovered over its surface, showing a series of commands and functions available to him.Many were padlocked, of course, but he finally had some degree of control over his slave attire, it seemed.As a test, he tapped at an icon that should’ve translated to color, and began dragging sliders around; his suit changed color accordingly, much to his delight and surprise.

_< How do I remove this thing?>_

_Error: requisite medical facilities missing from space station.Removal not possible.Error: requisite quantum decryption key missing.Removal not possible.Error: Royal override in place.Removal not-_

“Yeah yeah, removal not possible.”Raphael groaned, his elation at potential freedom smashing back down to earth.Even so, some degree of customization was preferable to none at all, and as he picked at the interface on his arm, an idea came to mind.He set the base color of the suit to white, then had it map a contour pattern of his scar lines beneath his skin to the color red.His suit shifted to a complex, yet artfully designed pattern of white and red, Raph satisfied with the new look covering his body.“Very cool.Although…”. A few more taps had his head, hands, and feet match his natural skin color, though Raphael grimaced at his shiny reflection on the center console before reverting those back to basic black.“Much better.”With a black head, hands and feet contrasting his white suit and red pattern lines, Raphael looked imposingly professional.

With his vanity sated, he returned to his console and began scrolling through checklists.Solar panels on Strut 5 were now online, meaning that as long as their star didn’t burn out, or another debris shower cracked the panels apart, the station was now fully self-sustaining.He’d been turning the station into a sort of home-away-from-home, taking the role of Commander along with the designated quarters: a room slightly smaller than his own back at the lair, albeit with a food dispenser, kitchenette, bathroom, and an incredibly plush bed to sleep on.A few of the rebels had claimed quarters on Section Orange, which was the most easily repaired once Raphael had recovered from his injuries: a small hole had led to a gradual depressurization, and was easily fixed and reinforced with scrap debris floating around the station’s orbit.As he ticked through the completed items, he smiled to himself: bringing this baby back online was an adventure in and of itself, and a welcome distraction from the loss of his family or freedom, as well as his mounting sexual frustration in the early days of his tenure here.Several months in, and the sexual tension had all but disappeared, an incredible delight on its own.

The remaining repairs on his list needed the items on Shuttle Gamma, unfortunately, which meant he was stuck with free time until then. _< Alert me when Shuttle Gamma is within visual range and ready for docking.The Commander is leaving the bridge.>_

_< Understood.May the peaceful light of the Republic light your path, Commander Raphael.>_. Raphael grinned.He would’ve loved to see this so-called Triceraton Republic in its hey-day.He locked his command console and walked out into the main corridor, then turned and started a light jog.Plenty of time to get a decent workout in before the away team returned.


	19. Pre-emptive Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonardo and Karai get to work.

Leonardo peered through the skylight into the warehouse below, just in time to see a Triceraton patrolling the catwalk beneath him.Several more troops could be seen through the window, all of them carrying heavy guns and on full alert, as if expecting an attack.“I told you they could track you.”Karai seethed, Leo paying her no mind.Even if they could track him, tonight would be the end of whatever they were planning.Years of intelligence work by the Foot Clan had led the two of them to this moment in time, spying on a Triceraton cell plotting an invasion of Earth.“Are you ready?”Leonardo nodded.Don had given him an injection of estrogen to counteract the effects of his suit, granting him a short window of total lucidity for this.There could be no mistakes, no errors, and no mercy.He watched Karai leap silently over to another skylight and deftly open it up, plunging inside.Leo heard the slicing of metal through flesh, then watched the decapitated head of the guard roll into his view.

He jumped in through his own window, his blade finding purchase in the throat of the second patrolling guard just as he went to scream in terror.With a twist of his wrist and a flick of his arm, the blade sliced through both major blood vessels in the alien’s neck, sending him down without so much as a whisper.Karai was already on the move, leaping down the open stairwell and throwing knives into the eyes of two more guards near the ground, both Triceraton’s screaming in agony as blood seeped from the wounds.As gunfire blindly erupted towards Karai, Leo leapt from the catwalk and unsheathed his second katana, both slicing from spine to sternum through the flesh and sending the heads rolling.

A firefight erupted from the remaining aliens, Karai and Leo moving swiftly to dispatch them one at a time.Kinetic shells and energy blasts pelted the warehouse walls, the skilled ninja dodging them all in a violent ballet of blood and gore.Triceratons fell one-by-one, some with heads removed from their bodies, others with blood spurting from their opened necks.As the last guard fell on Leo’s katana, Karai leapt from behind and cleaved his head from his shoulders, catching it by the horns with a triumphant smirk.“A fine trophy, don’t you think?”

“Monsters do not deserve to be remembered.”Leonardo snapped back, wiping blood from his blades before sheathing them over his shell.“If I had it my way, their corpses would be reduced to the finest of ash before being tossed into the depths of space.”His voice was cold, and even Karai shivered at how brutally efficient a killer and ninja Leonardo was.She had no doubt that, even with his handicap, he could cut her down here and now if he wanted to.Working alongside someone stronger than herself was an intoxicating poison, one she couldn’t resist, even if it pained her to imbibe in its sweet taste.“That all of them?”

“According to my intel network, no.Just the ones in New York City, but considering they’re the leading force…”. Karai trailed off, setting the enraged head of the commander on the computer console.“…I doubt my elite units will run into troubles with their other cells.”

“Good.”He joined her at the computer and stared at its screen, a jumble of Triceraton letters and numbers he couldn’t hope to understand.“What are they transmitting here?”

“We don’t know.My intel network is good, but these scum only speak English while on Earth.I guess to protect their systems from unauthorized access?”Blood from the severed head trickled down over the screen, obscuring its contents.“We could attempt to salvage it, if you like.”Leo reached for one of his blades, unsheathing it from its scabbard.

“No need.”In a flash of movement, he sank the blade deep into the recesses of the control station and through several circuit boards, sparks flying before the screen exploded in a puff of smoke and electricity.“It’s probably just mili…”. His voice trailed off, his mind foggy.“It’s probably…prob…”. Leo fell to his knees, his body shaking.It felt like his skin was boiling away, but not painfully so.

“Leonardo!”Karai shouted, but she didn’t dare touch him.Black rubber sloughed off his skin and onto the floor beneath, revealing his youthfully green skin for the first time in years.More of the substance vacated itself from his mouth and rear, the turtle vomiting up the contents of his stomach onto the floor with several heaves.He immediately noticed that his attempt at inhaling air was futile, something blocking his lungs from expanding and taking in new air, as if they are already filled with something else.Blackness began creeping into his vision as his brain became starved for oxygen, his body going limp and falling out of his control entirely.He desperately tried to suck in a breath of air, yet none ever came.His lungs felt full, but he couldn’t tell why.None of this made any sense to him as blackness took hold of him, death’s icy embrace lingering just beyond his touch.

Karai watched as the turtle fell unconscious on the cold floor of the warehouse, foam and black rubber bubbling up from his mouth as he suffocated.Only once he was down and his body clean of rubber did she begin chest compressions, spurts of black liquid leaping from his open mouth and down the side of his head as his ribs cracked and lungs squeezed.She did not know what happened, but Leo’s former rubber suit had suddenly dissolved into a puddle on the floor, as if commanded to release him by some unknown force.She desperately pumped at his chest to try and get air into his lungs, but he remained motionless beneath her hands.“Stay with me, Leonardo!”She pleaded with him, turning him onto his side and trying to scoop the liquid out of his throat with her fingers.“Breathe, damnit!”More and more of the liquid kept coming despite cups of it spilling over his mouth and under his head, his eyes glassy white and empty of any life at all.

She continued pumping at his chest there on the cold concrete floor, each press spewing more rubber from Leo’s lungs.“BREATHE!”


	20. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello and Leatherhead monitor Leonardo, and try to determine what happened at the warehouse.

The slow, steady pumping of a respirator filled the infirmary, punctuated by the occasional beep of the heart monitor attached to Leo’s chest.Don jotted down some numbers into Leo’s chart, along with the current time. “He’s been unconscious for over a week, now.”It wasn’t a comment or a question, merely an observation from a medical standpoint.Even so, Leatherhead felt the need to reassure the scientist of the prognosis.

“His brain activity is still quite good, Donatello.He’s most certainly alive.”The croc tried to smile, though it tended to look more menacing than reassuring.Donatello didn’t feel either, though, pressing a pin under one of Leo’s fingernails to check for stimulus response.Like his previous tests, the terrapin didn’t budge.“Stimuli tests are just one of many-“

“It’s alright, L.H.You don’t have to keep reassuring me.”Don jabbed sharply, scribbling more notes into the chart.“He’ll either wake up, or he won’t.It’s as simple as that.”The crocodile said nothing, giving the IV bag a squeeze to force liquid into the line and flush out any air, then connected it to Leo’s intake line.Karai had brought the unconscious turtle to Donatello for help, almost half an hour after initial symptoms during their raid of the Triceratons.He thought for sure it had been a ruse to lure their family out for an execution, but the tears staining Karai’s cheeks were as a genuine as the weak pulse running through his brother’s veins.“So…back to research, I guess.”Don set the chart back at the foot of Leonardo’s bed, taking off his lab coat and walking out of the infirmary, with Leatherhead close behind.“Two big questions still remain unanswered: first, why did Leo’s suit suddenly disappear, and second, why didn’t Michelangelo’s?”The youngest sibling was still bound in the cell back at the biohazard safehouse, the live feed constantly visible on a monitor near Don’s desk.Michelangelo could still be seen dripping lube from his two orifices and the suit still intact though not much else with his shell to the camera.

“I may have an answer to both of those questions, actually.”Leatherhead offered, Donatello perking up at the offered theory.“What if something in that warehouse acted as a solvent?It would explain the sudden dispersion of the material on Leonardo, but also why Michelangelo has yet to be effected.Its toxicity could also explain why the removal of Leonardo’s rubber material was so sudden, and violent.”Donatello rubbed his chin.That’s certainly possible, but not provable.When Karai went back to the warehouse, everything had already been scrubbed clean by another cell, and the warehouse itself burned to the ground.Whatever evidence remained when she left, was now long destroyed.“You have a thought about my hypothesis?”

“I do.”Something didn’t make sense.The material was organic, which meant that any substance toxic to it, should also have been toxic to Leonardo.If it made his rubber skin slough off as Karai described it, and into a pool of sterile rubber, then it should have done the same to her.Or to Leo’s own flesh.“It couldn’t have been a chemical.Otherwise Karai would’ve been just as affected as Leo.Same with the Triceratons.And she didn’t mention any liquid had been spilled, so I think we can rule that out as well.”

“Whatever it was, it was instantaneous throughout his entire person.Inside, and out.”Leatherhead observed, Donatello nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, and since he was the only one affected, it wasn’t an airborne agent.”

“And it was definitely contained to the local area.”Leatherhead noted.Donatello chewed on that for a bit more.Is that a definitive observation, however?The only indicator it was local was Michelangelo’s continued condition.Donatello sat down at his computer and pulled up a satellite map online, dropping pins at the warehouse Karai and Leo had raided, as well as the safehouse Michelangelo was secured in.“What are you thinking?”

Donatello traced a line between the two: one and three-quarter miles apart.“I’m thinking that it wasn’t localized.”He began pulling up blueprints for his safehouse, an intuitive itch at the back of his mind compelling him down his own hypothesis.“What if it wasn’t something Leo _was_ exposed to, but something Michelangelo _couldn’t_ have been exposed to?”

“You mean something in Michelangelo’s environment protected him from whatever affected Leonardo?”

“Exactly!”Donatello reviewed his schematics, his blueprints, even his construction notes about the safehouse.Something had to be there, some bread crumb to point them in the right direction.Before Donatello could go too deep into his research, however, his shell cell began vibrating loudly on his desk for the first time in months, an unknown number plastered across its face in a text message.“That’s weird.”He swiped the device open and examined the text message contents, a string of positive and negative numbers stretching for multiple lines on the screen.“It’s just gibberish.”The phone buzzed again and again, the message repeating several more times before stopping, all the numbers identical.“Or a computer glitch?”

Leatherhead plucked the phone from Donatello’s hands and adjusted his glasses, a thoughtful rumble filling his maw.“Coordinates.”

“To what?Those aren’t the usual latitude and longitude.”Donatello corrected, the croc still rumbling as his mind deciphered the message.“Hello?L.H., what are they coordinates to?”

“I’m not certain.The first five strings appear to be universal standard coordinates, used by space travelers and dimension hoppers.”He handed the cell back to Donatello, then pocketed his glasses.“But I am unsure of the sixth string, 18 01 16 08 01 05 12.A cipher, perhaps?”

“You, myself, and April are the only ones who know what a cipher is, L.H..Well, maybe Leo too, but I’m not so sure.”Don spun in his chair and punched the digits into Google, basic cipher courses popping up in the results list.He started scrolling through a few results just to see if anything jogged his memory, but nothing came to mind.“Wait, you said those were universal standard coordinates?”

“Yes.I use Earth’s coordinates for the anchor point of my wormhole generator experiments.I am quite familiar with them, though these don’t correspond to our present galaxy, just our present universe.”The croc corrected, a new idea striking Don like a ten-ton hammer.

“Alright, let’s narrow things down, then.Which one of us wouldn’t know a complex, unbreakable cipher?”

“Raphael, Michelangelo, Casey, and Leonardo, I surmise.”Donatello nodded sharply.“All of whom have your phone number, however.This is an unknown number.”

“True, but which one of us doesn’t have their phone, _and_ would transmit coordinates in such a format, _and_ may only have numbers to work with when sending messages?”Leatherhead thought for a moment, then snapped his claws.

“Raphael!You said he was taken into space by those Triceratons, did you not?”Donatello nodded with a bright smile, opening a basic alphabet cipher and plugging in the last string of integers.

“Exactly.The big idiot can’t do math, but he can always improvise.”Don chuckled, slamming his pencil down after sketching out the cipher.“It’s, quite literally, an alphabet cipher.01 is A, 02 is B, 03 is C, and so on.18 01 16 08 01 05 12 is R A P H A E L.He signed his own message.”

“So it’s safe to assume these coordinates are his present location?”Leatherhead queried, Donatello nodding.“Then I’m afraid I must depart for my own lab post-haste, Donatello.”The smaller turtle jumped up from his chair and grabbed at Leatherhead’s arm, stopping the crocodile cold.

“Why? We just found out where Raph might be!”

“Of course.”Leatherhead assured him, grappling Don’s head with his claw and squeezing gently, those sharp tips massaging the turtle’s scalp.“And I have much work to do getting my wormhole generator ready for the trip to bring him home.”


	21. Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leatherhead and Donatello are busy working on their projects in silence. Leatherhead is concerned by this.

It had been a quiet few weeks of work for the two scientists, their shared lab space awash in cables and parts, gizmos and gadgets.Leatherhead had found himself wrenching some heavy amplifiers into place on either side of the wormhole frame, designed to drive sufficient current into the folding generator for a steady portal.Donatello was on the floor nearby, fingers dancing across a laptop keyboard and working on programming a solution for Michelangelo’s current state.He had hypothesized that Mikey’s cell acted like a faraday cage, blocking the signal from the warehouse Leo had been suddenly reverted within.Of course, it was only a theory, with absolutely nothing supporting his hypothesis; it was basically guess work, but he felt the need to try something, anything to save his sibling.

“You’ve been quiet, Donatello.”Don grunted affirmatively, Leatherhead turning a wrench to tighten one of the bolts into place.“For days, now.You’ve only ever focused on the task at hand, but you and I haven’t had a chance to speak as friends in quite some time.”Another grunt from the turtle made it clear Don wasn’t paying much attention, and so L.H. finished securing the next three bolts on the amplifier before taking a break.Setting the wrench down, he took a seat against the wall and patted his lap.“Come here.Talk with me for a while.”

“Can’t.Busy.”Leatherhead refused Don’s protest, carefully closing the laptop lid with one hand while the other pulled the smaller turtle into his lap.“Hey!”

“It’s not going anywhere, Donatello.You can spare a few minutes of time to speak with your friend.”The turtle continued to protest verbally, though the croc’s grip around his waist kept him from exerting any physical resistance.“Your brothers are fine for now.Let us focus on you for a moment, shall we?”

“I’m fine, L.H.”Donatello offered, the croc’s grip tightening around him.“Compared to them, anyway.”Leatherhead nodded, pulling the turtle deep into his chest and lap, his other hand circling around Don’s chest and arms.

“Perhaps, but how are you feeling if we weren’t to draw such comparisons?”The croc offered, and Don relaxed a little more.Leatherhead knew him well, and no amount of bluster would get him free of the large mutant’s clutches.

“I’m not great.I mean, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”Don confessed.“I spent weeks thinking I was alone.That my family was gone. Then I find Mikey, but he wants nothing to do with me.Leo pops up, but he chooses to stay in the wilderness.Raphael is so far away that he hasn’t been given a say in the matter, but-“

“You worry he, too, will choose to stay?”Leatherhead asked, Don nodding meekly.“You feel alone.”

“I do.”Don shifted uncomfortably, Leatherhead loosening his grip just enough for the turtle to adjust his positioning.“I thought Christmas was a turning point, with Leo coming home and Mike socializing more.Then Mike disappeared, and now Leo might be dead.”The turtle pulled his knees up toward his chest, the croc parting his arms to encircle the balled up turtle and comfort him.“I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be, Donatello. You still have April and Casey, and Splinter still has many years left ahead of him yet.”Leatherhead reassured him, though it seemed to have the opposite effect, judging by his whimpering.“You aren’t merely concerned about a lack of friends, are you?”Don shook his head gently, Leatherhead tightening his grip.“What is really bothering you?”

“Well…it’s stupid.”Donatello deflected, a tickling of the croc’s claw under his chin eliciting a half-hearted chuckle.“It is, really.”

“Then say it anyway, and we can laugh together at it.”There was a length pause, but Leatherhead could feel Don’s chest rise and fall as he tried not to panic.

“I…”. He stopped, trying to formulate the words he wanted to say.“I saw how happy Mondo and Michelangelo were together.How happy Raphael and Leonardo were, even if they’re both too thick-skulled to admit it.”Donatello trailed off, leaving Leatherhead to prod him along.

“You mean as partners?”Donatello nodded once, clearly bashful.“Tell me what you want, Donatello.”

“I want to be loved, too.”He croaked, tightening up into a ball against the large croc.Leatherhead soothed the small turtle and stroked over his head and chest, tilting his snout down to form a shelter for Don to feel comfortable within.

“Is there someone you feel love toward?” The croc pried, a smile on his snout.“Someone you find attractive?Perhaps April?Or someone else you know?”Don nodded again, Leatherhead raking his claws gently over the turtle’s plastron and scratching there, eliciting a churr from Donatello.“Then you should tell them.There is no shame in admitting the desire to love someone, Donatello.It may hurt if they reject you, but you must still try.”Another meager nod from Donatello.“Life is too short to keep such desires to yourself.”

“I know.”Don’s voice hitched in his throat.“I just worry that it may ruin the relationship I already have with them.”

“It’s possible, but I doubt any of your friends would be offended by such a proposition of courtship.”The crocodile rumbled, letting Donatello unfurl in his arms and loosening his grip on the terrapin.“You should tell them.It would be best for you to have someone to confide in during these difficult times.And even if they reject you, I will always be here.”He heard the turtle sniffle, sucking back tears and snot in order to keep some facade of composure as he nodded again.Leatherhead released his grip on Donatello entirely, though the smaller turtle didn’t budge from his spot.“Go and take a break.Tell them how you feel.”

Donatello turned around in Leatherhead’s lap and sat up on his knees, grabbing either side of the croc’s wide snout and stroking gently there.The crocodile rumbled at the pleasant motions of Don’s fingers against his jaw, rolling his head side to side as the turtle’s pressure shifted between hands.“I will.”Those soft fingers fell from Leatherhead’s chin and jaw, Donatello sucking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, composing himself.“I love you, and I want to spend more time with you.”Leatherhead tilted his head to the side, one eye staring at Donatello.“I-if you’ll let me.”There was a rumble of curiosity, followed by a snort of air from the large mutant, Donatello suddenly nervous about where he stood with the creature.

Leatherhead didn’t respond verbally, instead gently guiding a confused Donatello back into the comfort of his lap.He slipped one hand over the turtle’s mouth and pinched it shut, Don’s nostrils gulping air with a hint of panic, fearful that the beast may rip him apart over such a confession.Instead, his panic was quickly abolished by the thick claws dipping between his thighs and pressing firmly at his taint, the turtle moaning into the hand smothering his beak.“Let me give you my answer with a demonstration, Donatello.”He massaged the turtle’s taint with one hand while constricting airflow with the other, Don’s arms reaching up to tug at the hand gripping his beak and trying to pull it away. 

“Right now, your animal brain is releasing chemicals into your blood stream.It knows it isn’t getting as much air as it likes, so it is pressuring you to panic, to run away.”The massage on Don’s taint intensified, and the croc could feel the bulge of the turtle’s hastily growing erection beneath his slit.“Yet those bundles of nerves are sending another signal to the brain, one of pleasure.So your brain releases more chemicals associated with that pleasure.”Leatherhead brushed his thumb over Don’s nostrils, the turtle squealing and tugging harder at the heavy arm of the crocodile, his torso and legs squirming with need as the monster still pressed and kneaded at the nerves there, dry humping into the paw over his crotch.“I am deliberately saturating your veins with an overabundance of adrenaline, serotonin, and vasopressin.”The scientist spoke matter-of-factly, Donatello whimpering as he began giving into baser instincts, thrusting into the heavy paw.“You’re in no danger, of course.You’re getting just enough air to survive, but not enough to feel safe.”He felt Donatello pulling hard against his arm and trying to wriggle away, which only served to make him mash those biological buttons that much harder.

Donatello’s eyes wrenched shut with pleasure as the croc pressed firmly against his taint, the head of his cock peeking from its slit and rubbing against the rough skin of Leatherhead’s hand.He thrust his hips into the croc’s grasp while still clawing at the hand smothering his mouth, his lungs and extremities tingling ever so slightly as his body re-routed oxygen to its more critical areas.He had no idea how Leatherhead knew to do this, but even if he could complain at the moment, he wouldn’t dare.A sharp whimper wheezed from his nostrils as he felt climax approaching, the friction of Leatherhead’s hand against his cock driving him towards the edge.“Are you getting close, Donatello?”The terrapin nodded feverishly, unable to see the devious grin on the croc’s muzzle.The hand moved up to pinch his nostrils closed as well, the other pressing hard into the nerves while his wrist rotated slightly, manipulating the palm of his hand over Don’s cock in a circular motion.Donatello tensed sharply as orgasm seized him, his cock actually spurting several loads of semen into Leatherhead’s waiting claws, much to the croc’s delight.“Good boy.”

As soon as the second spurt hit his palm, Leatherhead released the turtle’s nostrils and mouth, letting Donatello pant for air.He smiled as drool dripped down Don’s chin and onto the turtle’s plastron, wiping the messy semen on Donatello’s thighs with a delighted rumble.“I see you enjoyed yourself.”Donatello was too exhausted to answer, content to merely bask in the afterglow of his orgasm and against the big crocodile’s belly.“Rest now, little one.You have earned it.”Don churred loudly and gave a gentle nod, curling up in Leatherhead’s lap for a well-earned nap with his new lover.Leatherhead was content to sit and stroke at Don’s shell while the terrapin slept, and for a while, he did.The real world eventually came knocking, however, in the form of an alarm from the infirmary: a flatline of the heart monitor.“Donatello, let’s go.”He scooped up the sleeping turtle and dragged him to the infirmary, Don slowly stirring awake as the alarm increased in volume.

“Leo!Shit!”He jumped from the big croc’s arms and was ready to spring into action, though both stopped short of reaching for the crash cart when they saw the reason for the alarm: Leonardo had disconnected all the electrodes from his plastron, and had swung his legs over the side of the bed.“Leo…?”Fearless leader smiled back at him with his soft, strong smile, and pushed himself off the bed before Don could intervene.His legs gave out from under him and he crumpled to the floor with a grunt, Donatello sighing outwardly even as a happy smile crossed his beak.“Leatherhead, could you please put our over-eager patient back into bed for me?”The croc nodded, scooping Leo up with his clean hand and sprawling the weak turtle out onto the infirmary bed, while Donatello went to the washroom to clean up his earlier mess.

Today had been a good day.


	22. Weightless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonardo and Leatherhead embark on an epic journey across space and time.

After several weeks of recovery and no small amount of physical therapy, Leonardo was almost back to his old self.Splinter had carefully guided him back to his normal routine as Don gave the thumbs up, daily meditations and sparring practice with Donatello getting both of them prepared for whatever fight may come next.All the while, Leatherhead toiled away at the wormhole generator in his lab, though not without the occasional ‘overnight work’ Donatello assisted with.As the first flakes of winter snow fell onto New York, the generator was complete, and their mission was ready to proceed.“Though it will only be one way, of course.”Leatherhead explained, double-checking the voltage going into the machine.They had tapped into no fewer than six high voltage lines throughout the city, and ‘borrowed’ FEMA’s capacitor and battery backups for storing the excess energy siphoned over the course of several weeks.All told, the twenty gigawatts they’d managed to store would be barely enough for three seconds of stable gateway to Raphael’s position.

“I know.”Leonardo was adjusting the straps on his backpack, the space suit bulkier and stiffer than what he’d like.His swords were packed away in a duffel bag by his side, though his combat knife was holstered to the suit’s thigh just in case.“We get there, establish a base of operations, and then rebuild the gateway home.”The large croc nodded, Donatello helping him into his elongated helmet and clicking it into the suit’s neck, a hiss of air signaling its pressurization.Leonardo followed suit, a rush of fresh air accompanying the suit’s activation as oxygen began cycling.“How long will we have to find fresh air, Don?”

“These are old NASA kits with a few modifications.You’ll have a minimum of five and a half hours, with a potential for eight and a half if you’re careful about oxygen consumption.”The olive-skinned sibling yanked hard at each of Leatherhead’s suit seals, making sure there were no leaks.“How do you feel, big guy?”

“I will be fine, little one.”The big croc rumbled pleasantly, bumping his helmet against Don’s beak with a smile.“We will contact you as soon as we’re able.”Donatello nodded hesitantly and stepped back, giving Leo a hug around his neck.

“Be safe.” He paused, glancing to Leatherhead.“Both of you.”Leo pulled a bag of supplies over each shoulder, containing enough food for several weeks of life support if needed.Leatherhead grabbed his toolkit and a similar supply of food, while Don hastily jogged behind the nearby safety glass.“Alright. It’ll take sixty seconds to power up, after which you’ll both need to run through as quickly as possible.Last chance to back out.”Leo and Leatherhead both flashed signs of approval, and Donatello hit the emergency dump button on the console.This forced all of the stored energy into the amplifiers as quickly as possible, and the various machines instantly began roaring to life.“T-Minus fifty-five seconds!”Pink energy sparked and swirled around the perimeter of the gateway, the very fabric of space and time folding around it and creating a tunnel between two points in the universe.“Thirty-five seconds!”Don yelled out, though his voice was increasingly hard to hear over the whirr of the machines and the intense heat radiating from them.Temperature alarms began going off in their ears as the suits warned them of the rising heat levels, though Leatherhead and Donatello were confident that the suit could protect them.“Fifteen!”The pink energy began to form a more stable shape, a vortex forming in the center and rapidly spreading out towards the boundaries of the gateway.Don’s countdown continued as the vortex surface grew and grew, those final three beats making Leo’s heart pound with anxiety.“GO!”

As soon as they heard the callout, both of them were making a hasty run through the portal.Donatello watched as Leonardo jumped in first, followed by Leatherhead, both of them disappearing into the focused energy storm of the generator.Almost as soon as they were in, the portal collapsed, taking New York’s entire power grid with it.Donatello was plunged into darkness for a few moments, followed by the gentle hum of lighting energizing and illuminating the lab once more.The gateway was singed with chaotic energies let loose in that split-second of losing power, but both his eldest brother and partner were gone, hopefully to whatever endpoint the portal was pointed to.Don emerged from behind the safety glass and stared into the empty hole, biting his lower lip anxiously.He would have to wait for a response, to know if this worked.

From Leo’s perspective, however, things could be going better.They had successfully emerged…somewhere, but he had no idea where ‘here’ actually was.“Leatherhead, you there?”

“Alive and well.”The croc replied, the shielded helmet of his suit taking stock of their surroundings.It looked like a large warehouse, albeit with crates floating around the open space without the aid of gravity.“It appears we’ve been deposited into a loading bay of some kind.”The duo turned around, large docking bay doors sealed shut behind them.Leo turned to the opposite of the exterior doors, only to find another, smaller set equally locked down, albeit with red lights on either side.

Leonardo kicked off and floated over to the smaller doors, the weight of the bags effortlessly carried in the zero gravity environment.Grabbing hold of a handle and pulling himself closer to the thick metal doorway, he scanned for any control panels he might interact with, or otherwise reach the interior of the station.“There’s no controls out here that I can see.”Leatherhead joined him nearby, the croc rubbing a gloved hand over the surface of the door and rumbling in thought.Leo released the duffel bags from his shoulders and wrapped their straps around a nearby rail, then pushed off against the door and toward the ceiling of the room.He spun slowly as he drifted, surveying the room from a higher vantage point to see if there was anything he missed.The docking bay appeared to be much larger than initially thought, the landing area in the center of the room actually a floating platform, with a mirrored version of the room beneath it.“There’s more area below the landing pad.I’m going to go check it out.”

“Please be careful, Leonardo.We do not know if this area is sealed or not.It’s possible there could be holes in the hull, and we are not equipped with thrusters to maneuver.”Leonardo swallowed hard at the thought of accidentally drifting out into space, and decided to grip the structural support tightly once he reached it, just in case.

“Good point.Do we have tethers?”He could see Leatherhead’s helmet shake slightly, the turtle silently cursing his ill-preparedness for weightlessness.“Alright.”He scanned the wall for a way below the landing pad, then gently pushed himself along the exposed steel beams toward its underside, never straying from its surface in case he needed to grab on suddenly.After a few gentle kicks and turns, he found himself on the obverse side of the docking bay, and with a nearly identical layout.“I’m on the other side of the landing pad.Everything looks the same, here.”Almost the same, that is.“Hang on.There’s a door here with a green light.”With a gentle kick and a moment of floating, Leo found himself floating around inside a much smaller room, no more than a few feet wide in every direction.A console displayed glyphs of an unknown origin, though with its function seemed obvious.“I think I found an airlock.”

“Understood. I am coming to you, then.”Leatherhead’s voice gurgled over the radio link, and as promised, the large croc arrived a few moments later with all four bags in tow.“This does appear to be an airlock, but I do not understand this language.”Leonardo folded his arms in thought for a moment, both of them seemingly stumped by a single console.“I would not advise hitting random keys, however.”

“Agreed.Shall I knock, then?”The question was part sarcasm, part sincerity, but Leatherhead’s nod of approval meant he was committed to the course of action.He pounded hard on the steel doors, an echo clearly heard on their opposite side.“Echoes mean some sort of atmosphere, right?”

“Indeed, though I heard nothing of the sort.”Leatherhead floated closer and knocked as well, smiling as he too heard a faint echo.“Interesting.”Both took turns knocking on the door for a minute or two, while still thinking of other ways to get inside in the event this was a waste of time.It didn’t take much longer for an answer to appear in the form of the rear door slowly closing behind them, air hissing into the small compartment as pressure equalized between the cargo bay and the rest of the station.“I suppose some things are universal.”

“Maybe.”Leonardo was mildly concerned about their reversal of fortune, the lights in the room shifting to a bright white color as pressure seemed to finally equalize completely.A little light inside their helmets switched to green, signaling breathable air was present.“Keep your helmet on.”Leatherhead nodded, the forward door slowly opening out into the station proper.

“Hands where I can see them!”A familiar voice called from the hallway, a cacophony of aliens leveraging all manner of weapons at the two of them.Leonardo raised his slowly, as did Leatherhead, while simultaneously scanning the room: Triceratons, some unique-looking aliens, and a strange, rubbery creature with white skin, red stripes, and a black head filled the hallway.“Take off your helmets.Slowly.”Leonardo complied first, a twist unlocking the helmet from the neck of his space suit, a brief hiss of air filling the newly-created gap between the finely machined metal interlocks.He lifted the glass dome from his head and let it float off to his side, Leatherhead doing the same after a bit of difficulty with his snout length.The figure in white looked stunned and surprised, and as Leo looked closer at him, oddly familiar…

“Identify yourselves!”A female Triceraton called from beside the white-skinned alien, though her glances to said person showed she was not the one in command.Leo kept his hands high, not wanting to get shot so soon after reaching their presumed destination.

“I’m Leonardo Hamato, from Planet Earth.This is my friend, Leatherhead.”A few weapons lowered, the croc giving a slight wave of his right hand with a large, albeit toothy smile.“We’ve come here looking for my brother.His name is Raphael.Have any of you seen him?”The gathered group all stared at the white-skinned alien with a look of confusion, a familiar laugh echoing against the metal walls.

“Lower your weapons!”The group did so, the familiar-looking alien kicking off the wall and vaulting directly towards Leonardo, wrapping his arms around the terrapin before Leo could react.As the pair smashed into the rear door with a resounding thud, Leo could finally get a better look at the man beneath the rubbery exterior.The terrapin-shaped, white-skinned male looked up at him with tears in his beautiful amber eyes, and Leo’s heart skipped several beats in his chest.“Where da fuck have you been, asshole?!”

Leonardo embraced Raphael as the two spun in zero-g, his own eyes filling with tears of joy.“I’m sorry I took so long, Raph.”He squeezed his brother tighter, the two of them churring with joy.“I’m so sorry.”


End file.
